80pairsofcrocs

[80pairsofcrocs]

this post aged so well

ok but she should have her own movie.

idk wtf it would be about but i still want it

[80pairsofcrocs]

Me to you

let’s kiss

[80pairsofcrocs]

spacial sparks || 16

Chapter warnings - guns, shooting, ben and his tentacles, electrocution, bad description of time travel, unreadable fight scenes, mention of drugs and alcohol, moon rock, let me know if i missed anything.

~~~

Second pov

~~~

"What's with all the lollygagging?" 

"Five, y/n, get down!" Luther's urgent voice cut through the chaos as he swiftly pulled you and Five down under the protective cover of the seats in the theater. 

Adrenaline surged through your veins as the unexpected situation unfolded before you. Vanya's presence radiated an intense and mysterious light, casting a surreal glow over the scene. 

The soundtrack of chaos surrounding you was a cacophony of gunshots echoing against the backdrop of the orchestra bravely playing on, defying the tumultuous wind that swirled around you. 

In that moment, every sound, every movement felt heightened and charged with a sense of urgency, as if time itself had slowed down to witness the surreal drama playing out in front of you. 

"What the hell is going on?!" you yell, your heart racing as you frantically scan the surroundings for any signs of danger close to you.

"Five, what the─ I thought you two bailed on us!" 

"I had an errand to run." Five's casual response only serves to fuel your annoyance as you shoot him a sharp glare before letting out a heavy sigh, resigned to the unpredictable turns of the day.

Fives frustration is evident in the way he scoffs at you, his actions speak louder than words as he shoves you further down behind the seats.

"This is not good," he mumbles under his breath, the tension palpable in the air.

Curious about the unfolding scenario, Diego decides to break the tense silence by initiating a conversation. "You know these guys?" 

"Yeah, I do," He admits.

"And?"

"Well... we're screwed."

A distant yell pierced the air, causing heads to turn in surprise before Klaus sprinted into view, panic etched onto his face. "Guys, it's Cha-Cha! It's Cha-Cha, she's-!" 

Klaus's warning was abruptly cut off as Luther's authoritative voice boomed out, demanding action. "Klaus! Get down!" Luther's command was clear and urgent, filled with concern for his brother's safety. 

Responding quickly to Luther's directive, Klaus reacted instinctively, dropping to the ground and seeking cover behind nearby seats, the echoes of gunfire ringing in his ears as bullets whizzed past.

You pause for a fleeting moment as the sound of Five utilizing his spacial jump reaches your ears, his absence from your side during the battle becoming starkly evident.

A mental image flashes through your mind, prompting you to swiftly rise from your position, your outstretched arms taking aim at a clustered formation of hostile soldiers.

Their hostile intent is unmistakable as they retaliate with a barrage of gunfire, prompting you to instinctively harness your electrically charged power to deflect and disintegrate the incoming projectiles before they have a chance to harm you, the vibrant blue illumination radiating from the veins in your hands a testament to the potent energy at your command.

The discharge of your power initiates a rapid and deadly cascade, enveloping the aggressors in a crackling wave of electricity that sears through their bodies, leaving them smoldering and lifeless.

Five stares away from where he was snapping a guy's neck, he paused momentarily, watching your display of power. "Wow," he breathed out, almost to himself.

You stood there, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you. 

You then shrugged nonchalantly, a feeble attempt to downplay what had just occurred. 

You couldn't help but notice how your hands felt hot and looked red from exerting your power, a stark physical reminder of the raw energy coursing through you.

You turn to observe Klaus standing up on a few seats situated behind you, and an initial wave of concern washed over you. 

However, this unease swiftly transformed into astonishment as a soft, light teal glow radiated from him, captivating your attention. 

The luminescence gradually condensed into the distinct form of a man, and as your eyes focused on this apparition, a sense of familiarity washed over you, leaving you bewildered. 

A sudden gasp escaped your lips as the man's features became clearer, and you realized in a sudden rush of joy that it was Ben standing before you. 

Overwhelmed, you enthusiastically exclaimed, "It's Ben! Klaus you did it! You did it!" Your voice echoed with a mixture of happiness for Klaus's demonstration of his power and the spiritual reunion with Ben.

"Oh, my God.. It really is him. It's Ben," Five whispered to himself, his voice trembling in shock at the sight unfolding before him.

In a sudden burst of horror, Ben let out a short yell that echoed through the chaos, his once-familiar form now grotesquely transformed with menacing tentacles sprouting from his stomach. 

These monstrous appendages lashed out mercilessly, enveloping and extinguishing the lives of the remaining soldiers with devastating ferocity, rending them asunder in a gruesome display of power.

With a heavy heart, Ben wearily acknowledged his siblings with a weary wave before vanishing once more, leaving behind a haunting silence that lingered in the air long after his departure.

"Now who's the lookout?" Klaus proudly boasts as a mischievous glint dances in his eye, bringing a short sense of ease among the group as you all huddle closely in a small circle within the quivering walls of the dimly lit theatre.

As the tension thickens, Luther's voice cuts through the air, his brow furrowed in suspicion, "Oh, welcome back. Where were you?" he questions Diego, his tone laced with a mix of concern and curiosity, the weight of their mission hanging in the balance.

"Honoring a memory." Regaining his composure, Diego shifts the focus back to the present, his mind already turning towards the next steps ahead. 

"So, how do you wanna end this thing?" he inquires, his voice steady.

"We surround her," Luther starts, his tone carrying the weight of their precarious situation. "All right? We come at her from all angles," he explains with a gesture that indicates a strategic plan forming in his mind.

"So it's a suicide mission," Klaus points out, his voice tinged with a mix of doubt and resignation, acknowledging the risks they face.

"Yeah, but one of us could get through," Five interjects, his eyes reflecting a glimmer of hope amidst the impending danger, subtly nodding towards Luther. "It's the only chance we've got," he emphasizes, underlining the urgency of their mission.

"Are we all in?" Luther's question hangs in the air, prompting each member of the group to consider their commitment to the risky endeavor. 

As the tension mounts, he looks around the group, seeking solidarity in their shared objective, even as the haunting melody of Vanya's violin intensifies, a stark contrast to her outward transformation from black to white.

"Alright, everyone seems to be in agreement except for Allison," Luther acknowledged, glancing over at the woman who responded with a subtle shake of her head.

Taking charge, Luther swiftly organized the group: "Stage left, stage right. You all take the front," he directed, ensuring everyone knew their roles.

"Stay with Allison," Five orders firmly, his tone brooking no argument, causing you to release an audible groan of frustration. 

"Five, I'll be fine—"

"Stay," he interrupts sharply, fixing you with a firm gaze before swiftly darting off in the direction of Luther. 

After glaring intensely at Five until he disappeared from view, you shifted your gaze to Allison who stood there, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and awe as she watched Vanya. 

The once-steady ceiling now showed signs of strain, with cracks spreading ominously, causing pieces to break off and fall to the ground. 

Each passing second seemed to fuel Vanya's powers, amplifying the destructive force around her.

Hovering in mid-air, Vanya continued to play her violin with expert skill, the music resonating in the room with an ethereal quality. Her eyes glowed intensely in a mesmerizing shade of white, emanating a power that seemed both captivating and dangerous. 

The sound waves that rippled from her instrument created a symphony of chaos, blending harmoniously with the crumbling surroundings.

As the scene unfolded before you, a mixture of concern and fascination washed over you, realizing the sheer magnitude of Vanya's abilities and the potential danger they posed. 

The room itself felt like it was on the verge of collapse, caught in the turmoil of Vanya's uncontrollable power.

"Now!" Luther roared, his voice reverberating through the air as all the brothers sprang into action, racing towards Vanya with a sense of urgency, ready to intervene and halt her destructive course. 

Vanya, in tune with their approach, swiftly pivoted, her bow raised with precision, exerting a force that suspended them all in midair, rendering them helpless against her formidable power.

Each brother felt the essence of life being sapped from them, a chilling sensation creeping through their veins as their bodies hung suspended, trapped in Vanya's unyielding grip. 

In a moment of fear and desperation, you instinctively reached out, grasping Allison's arm tightly, seeking solace and reassurance.

Allison's nod, filled with reassurance, was followed by a swift and determined action. She reached out towards the lifeless soldier beside her, retrieving the gun with a sense of urgency.

With good enough aim and a semi-steady hand, she fired a shot that echoed loudly, the sound reverberating in the tense silence of the room. 

The bullet whizzed past Vanya's head, serving as a forceful warning.

In response to the sudden gunshot, Vanya's radiance dimmed, gradually fading until it vanished completely. 

The gust of wind that had swirled around her abruptly came to a halt, leaving behind a stillness that mirrored the sudden change in the atmosphere. 

Vanya's descent to the ground was swift yet graceful, her form crumpling as she slipped into an unconscious state.

Vanya, laying solitary amidst the bustling group, became the focal point of concern as everyone else rushed to assist the petite woman.

As Luther gently cradled the unconscious Vanya, his fingertips anxiously searching for the pulsing beat of life beneath her skin, a flicker of hope mixed with fear reflected in his eyes. 

"Is she alive?" he implored, voice tinged with urgency and doubt.

Allison, her own fingers pressed against Vanya's neck, confirmed the reassuring presence of a pulse, her expression softening with relief at the small but tangible sign of life. 

She nods, smiling softly.

"She is? Yeah?" he repeated, a plea woven into his tone, as if willing this truth to solidify and dispel the shadows of uncertainty.

"Oh, thank God," Klaus breathes out, relief evident in his tone as he places a trembling hand over his heart, the loud thumping echoing in the tense silence surrounding you.

Suddenly, Five appears beside you, a sense of urgency in his movements that startles you from your thoughts. 

You find yourself drawn to him instinctively, stumbling slightly in your dazed state, only to feel the reassurance of his presence as you grab onto the fabric of his jacket, seeking stability in the chaos unfolding around you.

With swift reaction, Five reaches out to steady you, a strong grip ensuring you don't lose your footing. 

His touch is both firm and comforting, preventing any chance of you falling, a sense of protection emanating from his actions.

"It's okay, Sparky, you did so well," he assures you with a calm voice, causing you to nod in appreciation. 

You take a few deep breaths, letting the moment sink in before straightening up to meet his gaze once more.

A gentle but shaky chuckle escapes your lips as you lean in to plant a brief kiss on Five's cheek, a wordless gesture of your affection towards him. 

Following the sweet gesture, you embrace him once more, feeling the warmth of his presence enveloping you.

At first, Five stiffens slightly, caught off guard by the sudden display of affection. However, he quickly relaxes and returns the hug, burying his face in your hair.

As you were entangled in an emotional hug with Five, a sudden interruption in the form of Klaus's wavering voice caused all of you to abruptly disengage and turn your attention toward him. 

"Uh... Guys?" he uttered with apprehension, his eyes fixed on something dire in the sky.

Following his gaze, you noticed a massive moon rock hurtling perilously towards the theatre.

Concerned expressions mirrored on your faces as Klaus's question hung heavily in the air, prompting Luther to chime in with a grave observation. "You see that big moon rock coming towards us?" Klaus's statement lingered, leaving an ominous tension in the atmosphere.

"That's not good.." Luther's voice echoed his ominous thoughts, adding to the weight of the imminent danger. With a shared sense of urgency, all eyes were now fixated on the impending calamity descending slowly from the sky.

"So this is it, huh? So much for saving the world," Klaus mumbles with a hint of resignation echoing in his voice. As the realization settles in, you and Five return to the group, your gazes naturally drifting up to the vast expanse of sky above. 

"I thought..." you begin, your voice soft and filled with a tinge of regret, your words trailing off as the weight of the situation sinks in.

Feeling a sense of comfort washing over you in the midst of uncertainty, Klaus gently wraps an arm around your shoulder. 

"It's okay, little buddy," he says with a reassuring smile, his eyes conveying an unspoken understanding and empathy. In that moment, his gesture speaks volumes, more than usual.

"If only Sir Reginald could see us right now, huh?" Diego shook his head in disappointment, his frustration palpable. "The Umbrella Academy. A total failure," he muttered under his breath.

"At least we're together at the end, as a family," Luther's voice held a glimmer of hope amid the desolation, his words a bittersweet reminder of the bond that had sustained them through countless trials and tribulations. 

You couldn't help but feel a lump forming in your throat, a surge of emotion threatening to spill over as you exchanged knowing looks with the siblings.

"This doesn't have to be the end," Five's firm declaration cut through the heavy silence, his unwavering determination injecting a renewed sense of purpose into the somber atmosphere.

As you turned to face him, a flicker of hope ignited within you, the faintest hint of optimism taking root in your heart.

"What?"

"What are you saying, Five?"

"I think I have a way outta here." Five starts, looking around at you and his siblings. "But you gotta trust me on this."

"Yeah, I don't think so."

"No."

As the tension in the room simmered, Five restrained himself from lashing out at them in frustration. 

"Well, then," he began, trying to maintain a semblance of composure, "We might as well accept our fate, because in less than a minute, we're gonna be vaporized."

You stepped in to defend Five. "He's your brother, guys. Plus we don't exactly have any other options."

Acknowledging your support, Five responded with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "Oh, it's so reassuring knowing you have faith in me." 

Diego let out a sigh of contemplation, his brows furrowing in deep thought. "What's your idea, then?" he asked, a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes.

"We use my ability to time travel," Five explained, his eyes shining with desperation. 

"But this time, I'll take you with me," he added, a sense of urgency underlying his words. 

"You can do that?"

"I don't know. I've never tried it before." Five shrugs.

"What's the worst that can happen?"

Diego let out a sigh of contemplation, his brows furrowing. 

"You're lookin' at it," Five remarked with a hint of mischief, humor dancing in his eyes as he casually gestured towards his own form. 

With a touch of irony in his tone, he added, "A 58-year-old man inside a somewhat pre-pubescent body, so there's that." he scoffed, a wry grin playing upon his lips. 

As you rolled your eyes in response to his theatrics, Five couldn't resist a mischievous smirk, reveling in your exasperation. 

Glancing over at his siblings, he awaited their reaction, a silent challenge hanging in the air.

"Oh, what the hell? I'm in."

"Yeah, whatever. I'm in."

"Me too," Luther expressed before turning his gaze towards Allison, seeking her confirmation. A nod from Allison was all it took for Luther to feel reassured.

Noticing the interaction between Luther and Allison, you turned towards Klaus.

"What about Benny?" Klaus met your gaze with a smile, indicating his approval with a simple nod before confirming, "Yeah, he's in."

Grateful for the unity within the group, you echoed Klaus's sentiment with determination, "Me too," as you redirected your focus towards Five, acknowledging the significance of everyone being on board.

The collective agreement among the team members filled the room with a sense of solidarity, each nod and confirmation reinforcing their shared purpose and commitment. 

"Okay, great," Five acknowledged as everyone swiftly moved into position, forming a tight circle to coordinate their next move. "Luther, grab Vanya," Five directed, his tone firm and resolute.

Luther hesitated for a moment, his eyes reflecting concern as he hoisted Vanya in his arms. "Wait, should we be taking her?" Luther questioned, a note of uncertainty in his voice. "I mean, if she's the cause of the apocalypse, isn't that like taking the bomb with us?"

Five shook his head in response to Luther's valid concerns. "The apocalypse will always happen and Vanya will always be the cause, unless we take her with us and fix her."  

You look over at Five, feeling a sense of determination wash over you as you grasp his hand firmly in yours, giving him a nod of agreement. 

"Let's do this. I kinda want to live," you say with a small smile playing on your lips.

Five returns the nod, his grip on your hand tight and reassuring.

Klaus takes hold of your other hand, his presence a comforting anchor, while Luther ensures that Vanya is connected with the group, making sure everyone is linked and ready for whatever comes next. 

As Five taps into his power, a blend of azure mist and radiant light engulfs the entire group in a swirling vortex of energy. 

The intensity of this power amplifies with each surge from Five, and in a fleeting moment, a glimpse flashes before your eyes revealing the siblings as adolescents once more. 

This spectral vision serves as a poignant reminder of the very first time you crossed paths with them, evoking a wave of nostalgia that washes over you, carrying with it a sense of shared history and profound connection that has withstood the test of time. 

The dynamic energy weaving around you all continues to expand and evolve, creating an otherworldly display.

"It's working!" Luther yells, his voice ringing out amidst the crackling electricity that dances and fizzles around you, casting a surreal glow on your surroundings. T

he energy in the air seems to pulsate with a promise of something extraordinary about to unfold. "Hold on! It's gonna get messy!" Five's urgent warning reverberates, a tense edge underlying the chaotic symphony of power playing out. 

And in the next instant, as if caught in a glitch within the fabric of time itself, you all blipped - a sudden, disorienting shift that leaves your senses reeling, the world around you warping and twisting before snapping back into focus in a disconcerting jolt.

And after that..?

You found yourself alone once again.

~~~

A/N - wow already the end of season 1, im so sad BUT! season 2 is in the works! we will have a similar posting schedule once im done with it all, but until then, ill leave you guessing what happens to y/n

i will post an announcement when season 2 is done and ready to post!!!!!!!!!

i love you guys <3

word count - 3251

[80pairsofcrocs]

spacial sparks || 15

Chapter warnings - mention of drugs and alcohol, mentions of injuries and blood, bye dolores :(, mention of knives and guns, oh no the academy is destroyed, the handler, let me know if i missed anything.

~~~

Second pov

~~~

You were absolutely livid with Hazel, seething with a passion that burned deep within your core. It was as if a storm raged inside you, dark clouds swirling with rage as you faced off against him.

The tension was thick enough to cut through, the air crackling with hostility, and yet, just as you were on the verge of a heated moment with Five, Hazel interrupted, extinguishing the looming clash.

Despite the intense emotions that coursed through you, there was a flicker of relief when Hazel spared your life, a gesture that held a bitter irony considering the gun that had robbed Patch of her future now rested on the counter in front of you. 

It was a twisted turn of events, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on your conscience as you grappled with a mix of emotions - anger, gratitude, guilt.

You still felt bad for Diego, understanding the depth of his feelings for her. Knowing that she reciprocated those feelings only added to your empathy towards him. 

As you watched them interact, subtly avoiding any form of eye contact with Five as Hazel engaged him in conversation, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anguish for Diego, who lay unconscious on the floor. 

In that moment, a wave of sympathy washed over you, as you recognized the complexity of emotions swirling in your gut.

You also draw the line at biting because, let's face it, it's just gross. The idea of sinking your teeth into someone's skin is not only unhygienic but also simply unacceptable. 

The act of biting can be seen as a form of aggression, control, or even domination, and these are not healthy dynamics in any kind of interaction. 

Wait, what are you talking about?

Why are you thinking about biting Five?

Why aren't you grossed out by the thought of biting him?

Man. Sobriety is making you crazy.

"Where is he?" Diego stands up abruptly, his hand instinctively moving to rub his temple in frustration. The sudden sound of his voice startles you out of the daze you slipped into ever since Hazel's brief presence. 

With Hazel now gone, the tension in the room seems to thicken, palpable in Diego's tense posture and furrowed brow. 

The air is heavy with unspoken thoughts and emotions, the quiet punctuated only by the sound of Diego's deep breaths as he struggles to rein in his anger. 

"Good, you're up," Five said cheerfully as he finished his margarita. 

He then turned to Diego and added, "Ready for a drink now?"

Diego's brows furrowed as he scanned the room, a trace of impatience in his voice. "Where is he? I won't repeat myself."

With a nonchalant shrug, Five replied, "I let him go."

The words seemed to hang in the air, and a sudden tension filled the room. Diego's eyes narrowed as he processed Five's casual admission. 

"You what?" he demanded, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and anger.

"Now that the apocalypse is over, it's time for the fighting to stop," Five asserted firmly as Diego, visibly agitated, picked up his knife and started to stomp out of the room.

Stopping Diego in his tracks, Five called out, "Hey!" compelling him to turn back, thoroughly surprised by the interruption. "It wasn't him who killed Patch, Diego. It was his partner, Cha-Cha."

Diego, still wary, retorted, "So what? They were both there that night."

Seeking to diffuse the tension, Five continued, "This half of the partnership gave me both of their guns."

Diego's demeanor relaxed slightly upon hearing this revelation. "Which will clear you, because the ballistics will match Patch's crime scene. Hazel came here looking for a way out. He wanted a fresh start, and he happened to have in his possession the one thing that could do our family a little good."

Five let out a sigh in exasperation before finally speaking up, "So it's time to move on." Diego, however, was resolute, shaking his head as he fixed his gaze on the array of guns displayed on the counter.

"Not a chance," Diego muttered, a hint of defiance in his tone.

"Suit yourself," Five shrugged, his curiosity piqued as he continued, "I am curious."

Diego acknowledged Five with a nod, prompting him to delve further into his inquiry. "Your girlfriend, Patch. What did you like about her?"

The unexpected question left you puzzled, questioning Five's motives behind wanting to know Diego's thoughts on his girlfriend. 

Why would Five suddenly be interested in discovering what Diego found appealing about Patch?

"A lot of things," Diego casually replies, his shrug implying an air of nonchalance. "Cute butt, nice legs," he adds with a grin, his playful tone hinting at a touch of flirtation.

However, Five interrupts, his voice tinged with a curious tone, "Anything a little more profound than that?" Turning his gaze towards you, he seems to be assessing you with a mix of intrigue and scrutiny. 

Diego, noticing Five's scrutinizing gaze, interjects with a fond memory of the woman from the streets, "She believed in people, no matter how much shit and filth she saw out there." His words reflect a sense of respect and admiration for her optimistic outlook amidst adversity. 

Suddenly, as Diego observes Five's lingering gaze on you, a protective instinct kicks in, and he defensively steps in, "Hey, hey, hey, don't be looking at her like that." His tone becomes stern, revealing his loyalty and concern for your feelings in the presence of others. 

Ensuring your comfort and dignity remain intact, Diego's actions reflect a sense of care towards you in this moment.

When Five raised his hands in surrender, he peered at her with a puzzled expression as if trying to understand her motives. "Looking at her like what?" he questioned innocently.

But he saw through his facade and interrupted firmly, "Don't play stupid, I know what you're doing-"

Feeling protective of Five, you quickly stepped in, coming to his defense and urging Diego to stop his accusations. "Diego, stop it. It's fine," you interjected, hoping to diffuse the tension brewing in the room. 

Diego turned towards you with a puzzled expression on his face, clearly taken aback by the situation unfolding before him. 

"He's undressing you with his eyes, Y/N! This is absolutely not acceptable-" Despite his serious tone, you couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. 

"Diego," you said reassuringly, attempting to diffuse the tension in the air.

His disbelief was palpable as he let out a scoff, clearly frustrated by the whole ordeal. "Fine. Just- just keep me out of it," he managed to say, his words coming out in a nervous stutter. 

Five, observing the exchange with amusement, couldn't help but chime in with a short chuckle of his own, prompting Diego to redirect his attention towards him. "Zip it," Diego retorted, trying to regain some semblance of authority in the situation.

Diego let out a heavy sigh, his gaze lingering on you once more. "You're like my sister, Y/N. Please don't let my idiot brother hurt you, alright?" he cringed, feeling the awkwardness of his words settle in. 

"That just came out all wrong."

Feeling the discomfort, you couldn't help but cringe. "That's just sick on so many levels..."

Five joined in adding his own perspective. "You know what's really twisted? Imagining how Patch would feel knowing you're seeking justice by killing Hazel and Cha-Cha."

Diego's expression softened as he returned his focus to the array of guns before him, a mix of determination and sorrow flickering in his eyes.

Diego nods to himself, showing a sense of finality in his departure from the room while simultaneously shedding the remnants of any lingering frustration, his demeanor, no longer clouded by anger. 

"So," you begin, playfully teasing, "undressing me with your eyes, hm?" 

Five can't help but roll his eyes. "Diego's words, not mine."

After Five picks up Dolores, you observe the scene with a slight tilt of your head, curiosity flashing in your eyes. 

"Where are you two off to?" you inquire, unable to suppress your inquisitiveness. 

In response, Five extends his hand toward you before answering, "I'm bringing her home. Care to join us?" he offers, the invitation hanging in the air. 

Your grin widens, a spark of excitement glimmering in your eyes as you eagerly accept his hand.

As you and Five spacial jump, you arrive back at Griddy's, positioned conveniently just outside the establishment's front doors. 

With Five struggling to manage the mannequin's top half and lone arm, you kindly step in to hold the door open, allowing him to maneuver more easily through the entrance. 

Five graciously acknowledges your gesture with a nod, and together, you make your way back towards the display where Dolores was originally discovered. 

Once there, Five carefully places Dolores in the exact spot where he had first encountered her, ensuring that she is positioned just right amidst the other items on display. 

"I'll let you two... talk," you say, gently stepping back to give Five some space to engage in their private conversation. 

Taking a moment to glance around the store, you notice that everything had already been meticulously repaired and cleaned up, almost as if the chaotic events from before - like the whole shooting incident orchestrated by Hazel and Cha-Cha - had been wiped clean from existence. 

Five returned to your side a few minutes later, his presence reassuring as he took your hand once more and gently guided you towards the register. 

There, he glanced over at the lady at the register a request in his eyes as he softly spoke, "Do you mind getting her something new? She likes sequins." he explained, a glint of amusement dancing in his gaze as you chuckled softly at the amusing situation. 

The lady in question just watched you two leave with way more questions than answers.

~~~

As the two of you continue to walk hand in hand, you chime in with a gentle observation, highlighting the long history shared between the two of them. 

"You could've kept her around, I mean, you did spend quite a few decades with her." you gently suggest, reflecting on their deep connection.

In response, Five lets out a contemplative sigh, pondering the past. "Well.. it seemed like she was better off with her friends." Five replies, his voice carrying a mix of fondness and a hint of longing for what once was.

Your playful nature emerges as you tease Five, adding a touch of lightheartedness to the conversation. "Aw, thats so sweet" you playfully joke, nudging him lightly as you both continue your stroll down the sidewalk.

Five affectionately shakes his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips before he utters softly, "Hush, Sparky," his endearing nickname for you that never fails to bring a sense of warmth. 

You return the smile, mirroring his affection, but all too soon, your gaze wanders upward to the overcast sky above. 

The threads of your smile fraying slightly, you voice a concern that lingers in the air, "Is it supposed to rain?"

Five's attention shifts skyward as well, his hand instinctively tightening around yours in a protective gesture that speaks volumes. 

His usually composed demeanor bears a trace of uncertainty as he gazes at the looming clouds, "I don't think that's rain," his tone tinged with a hint of worry, hinting at a deeper intuition that something more ominous might be on the horizon. 

Five blinks you both back to the academy, which was now in ruins, smoke and dust filling the air like a sorrowful shroud of destruction. 

The once empty halls now lay in disarray, their former glory tarnished by the scars of unknown calamity.

You gasp softly, the weight of reality crashing down on you like a falling star, your hand instinctively rising to cover your mouth as shock and disbelief whirl within you like a tempest.

"What- what happened-?" you tremulously manage to utter, the words barely escaping your lips.

As you stood there, grappling with the inexplicable scene before you, Five silently leaves your side, his purposeful strides carving a path through the debris-strewn ground as he bends down to retrieve a crumpled newspaper. 

Gradually, the rest of the siblings begin to converge on the scene, drawn by a mixture of curiosity, concern, and a shared sense of foreboding that hung heavy in the air.

Yet, amidst the group gathering in the shadow of destruction, a conspicuous absence looms-

Vanya.

"Guys!" exclaimed Five as he hurried back towards the group with urgency in his voice. "This is it. The apocalypse is still on- the world ends today!"

"I thought you said it was over."

"I know, I know," Five admitted, his voice tinged with a sense of frustration. "I was wrong, okay?" As he spoke, he vividly showed everyone the crumpled yet significant piece of evidence he had discovered.

"This newspaper, I found it in the future the day I got stuck. The headline hasn't changed." The group gathered around, eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and fear, as they absorbed the gravity of the situation laid out before them.

"No, that doesn't mean anything-"

"The time could've been altered since that newspaper came out this morning-"

"You're not listening to me!" Five exclaimed in frustration, his voice filled with urgency, as he dramatically threw the newspaper to the ground. 

His eyes scanned the surroundings before continuing, "When I found it, I assumed this place came down along with everything else, but here we are. The Moon's still shining, the Earth is in one piece, but not the Academy." His voice trailed off, a hint of sorrow evident in his tone.

Klaus finally spoke up, mirroring the confusion in his expression to match his words. "I'm confused."

Five's frustration peaked as he demanded attentiveness, "Then listen to me, you idiot!"

Not willing to let the tension escalate further, you interjected with a tone of authority, "Don't call him an idiot-"

With a resigned tone, Five finally spoke, directed towards Klaus with a hint of remorse coloring his words, "Fine. Klaus, I'm sorry." 

A fierce glare was shot your way before the resumed. "Vanya destroys the Academy before the apocalypse, I thought Harold Jenkins was the cause, but he was the fuse."

The puzzle pieces fit together, painting a stark picture of her role in bringing about the catastrophic end.

"Vanya is the bomb..."

"Vanya causes the apocalypse."

Helicopters, their deafening rotors cutting through the night sky, hovered ominously above the group, their bright searchlights sweeping the area frantically while the distant wail of sirens added an urgent edge to the already tense atmosphere. 

Luther's voice, filled with urgency, broke through the chaos as he bellowed, "We have to find her!" 

Echoing his sentiment, Diego's commanding tone pierced the air, "We gotta go, now." 

His directive was clear as he added, "Regroup at the Super Star. Go!" 

~~~

"Look, I hate to be the one to say this, but everyone needs to prepare."

The group had gathered at the bowling alley, their apprehension palpable, a sense of urgency hung in the air like a heavy cloud. 

Each member begrudgingly swapped their regular footwear for the mandatory bowling shoes, now seated in an unusual formation.

Diego's inquisitive expression betrayed his skepticism. "For what?"

"To do whatever it takes to stop Vanya." Luther declared solemnly, his words a stark reminder of the unwavering threat they faced.

Allison's disapproving reaction, a swift smack on Luther's arm, encapsulated the shared concern and determination that had brought them together.

"I..." Luther let out a heavy sigh, his brow furrowed in deep contemplation. "We may not have a choice, Allison," he admitted reluctantly, his voice tinged with resignation.

"Bullshit, there's always options."

"Yeah, like what?" Five retorted sharply, his body tensing as he challenged them to come up with a viable alternative in their dire situation, the frustration evident in his voice and posture.

"Look, we don't even know where to start looking for her. Since we didn't know about her powers, we dont know what she could do," you try to reason, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you.

"Well, we need to find her fast. She could be anywhere," Luther states, his voice tinged with urgency. 

"Or... here," Klaus interjects, his eyes focused on a newspaper article that Five had shown earlier.

"Take a look at this," he urges, holding the paper up for everyone to see.

You lean over Diego's shoulder as he carefully studies the paper, the realization dawning on you as you read that Vanya's concert performance is scheduled for tonight. 

"That's right. Her concert is tonight," Diego confirms, his tone betraying a mix of concern and determination.

"Hello," one of the employees greets, making her way over to the group of siblings and company who were currently occupying the bowling alley. 

"I hate to intrude, but my manager says if you're not gonna bowl, you gotta leave." she states firmly, crossing her arms in a gesture of assertiveness.

Diego, feeling a sense of frustration creeping in, lets out a weary sigh as he questions, "Whose turn is it?"

Luther, always one to take matters into his own hands, picks up a bowling ball with a determined grip, confidently launching it down the lane with precision, the ball hitting the pins with a satisfying crash that results in a perfect strike.

Observing Luther's impressive throw, you find yourself raising your eyebrows, "Nice shot."

"We're the only ones capable of stopping this," Luther begins with conviction, his gaze fixed on his siblings. "We have a responsibility to Dad."

Diego raises an eyebrow in skepticism at Luther's mention of their father. "To Dad? No, I've heard enough about-" Diego interjects, a hint of frustration evident in his voice.

But Luther is undeterred, his voice steady as he continues, "He sacrificed everything to bring us back together." Luther stresses the importance of honoring their father's legacy.

"I'm with Luther on this one." As the tension in the room escalates, Five's sharp words cut through the air.

Frowning, you shift your gaze towards him, a sense of urgency in his voice as he emphasizes the gravity of the situation. "We can't give her a chance to fight back, there are billions of lives at stake, we're past trying to save just one," he concludes resolutely, driving home the dire necessity of prioritizing the greater good over individual concerns.

Contemplating Five's impassioned plea, a wave of conflicted emotions washes over you.

Although you understand the imperative to prevent catastrophe, the prospect of Vanya facing a deadly fate churns your stomach with unease. 

The moral dilemma looms large in your mind as you grapple with the stark reality of the situation. 

How can you reconcile the need for decisive action with the desire to preserve life, even that of the one who might unknowingly pose a threat?

"Hey, you know, guys, uh... maybe I could help," Klaus said, his timid demeanor contrasting with the hint of determination in his voice. 

With a shrug that was both nonchalant and hopeful, he offered his assistance, a glimmer of hesitation shimmering in his eyes as he sought a chance to prove himself amidst the chaos that surrounded them.

"Now is not the time-" Luther began, his words hinting at the urgency of their situation before Diego's interruption broke through the tension.

"No, let him finish." Diego's voice was firm, an unexpected edge cutting through the uncertainty that lingered. "He saved my life today."

"Really? Is that true?"

"Aw, you did?" You smile at klaus, a twinkle of curiosity in your eyes as you awaited his response.

"Yeah, yeah, I did..." klaus begins, his voice trailing slightly before a more sheepish smile graces his lips, a hint of mischief flickering in his eyes now.

"..take credit for it." he finishes his sentence, a lighthearted chuckle underscoring his words. 

"In fact, the real hero... was Ben," he adds, a touch of humility coloring his voice as he acknowledges his brother's contribution.

Multiple groans echo through the space, a chorus of protestation rising from the assembled group. 

Klaus let out a heavy sigh, his frustration evident as he threw his arms up in exasperation. "Today... Listen to this!" he began, the incredulity in his voice palpable. 

"Today, he actually punched me right in the face," he added with a mix of astonishment and amusement, a single, disbelieving chuckle escaping his lips. 

"And to think, just earlier back at the house, he was the one who saved Diego's life, not me," Klaus confessed, a tinge of self-deprecation coloring his words.

"You are truly unbelievable, Klaus-" 

"He's not unbelievable." your voice interupts that of Luther.

"You want proof, is that it?" Klaus said assertively, his voice tinged with a hint of challenge as he stood up, the dim light of the bowling alley bouncing off the polished bowling ball as he cradled it against his chest. 

"All right. I... I'll give you proof," he declared with a mischievous glint in his eyes, causing the group gathered around to take a cautious step back, uncertain of what was about to unfold.

With a confident grin, Klaus prepared himself, balancing the weight of the ball in his hands as he locked eyes with his audience. "All right, it's showtime, baby."

In a swift motion, Klaus propelled the ball forward, the sound of his shoes squeaking against the polished floor echoing in the tense atmosphere. "Catch!" 

The ball, having gathered momentum while hurtling through the air, descended swiftly towards the ground below. 

As it made contact with the solid ground, a thunderous 'thud' echoed out.

The sudden noise caused you to instinctively flinch ever so slightly.

"Is there any way to silence that voice in your head that screams out to be the center of attention?" Luther, his features contorted in exasperation, clenches his jaw, leveling an intense stare at Klaus across the room.

"You know, I liked you a lot better before you got laid." Klaus airily retorts, leaning back in his chair with a smug expression. "Which was a complete... It- It wasn't his fault, 'cause he was ridiculously high, right?"

"You guys got high without me?" you exclaimed indignantly, feeling a tinge of betrayal as Five pinched your arm in response.

"Ow!" you yelped in surprise.

"Don't start." Five warns.

With laughter bubbling up from within, the tense atmosphere lightened as Klaus playfully shared the amusing anecdote, "And... And the girl, she thought he was a furry-" His words were met with a boisterous chuckle from you, each burst of mirth echoing in the room. 

Luther intervened, his voice demanding, "Stop!" A gesture of mock surrender was Klaus's response, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. 

Obliging Luther's command, Klaus halted his story, and a moment of calm settled briefly as the laughter slowly subsided. 

However, curiosity got the better of you, prompting the inquiry, "She- she thought he was what?!"

Amid the jovial atmosphere, Allison gracefully heads towards the exit with Luther closely trailing behind her. 

Suddenly, a woman's voice breaks the merriment, prompting you to shorten your laughter as she strides over with a young boy in tow. 

"Excuse me," she begins, gently inquiring, "Excuse me, it's my son Kenny's birthday today, and uh... wouldn't your son and his girlfriend be happier playing with kids their own age?"

 Amused by her suggestion, you can't help but let out another chuckle, earning a playful nudge from Five on your unscathed arm. 

She smiled kindly, her warm expression betraying the light teasing in her tone as she gestured towards Klaus and Diego, causing you to break into a fit of laughter that echoed through the room. "Assuming it's okay with your two dads."

Five, being his usual serious self, shot back with a dry remark, his stern glare contrasting with the lighthearted atmosphere in the room, "I would rather chew off my own foot." 

Turning to Klaus and Diego, you attempted to redirect the focus, "You - you think they're his dads!" Your laughter bubbled over, cutting off your words as you struggled to contain your amusement.

As Diego glares at you with intensity, he crumples a nearby napkin and hurls it in your direction.

The woman standing nearby, noticing the escalating situation, appears visibly uncomfortable and swiftly guides her young son, Kenny, away from the unfolding scene. 

"Let's go, Kenny," she says in a hushed yet urgent tone, her concern evident as she ushers the boy away. 

Before they disappear from view, you can't help but shout out a cheerful "Happy birthday, Kenny!"

After the echo of your laughter fades, Diego tells Klaus, "If I was going to date a man, you'd be the last man I would date." 

Klaus, unfazed, meets Diego's gaze, declaring,"You'd be lucky to get me." 

Five rises from his seat and quickly makes his way over to the ball dispenser located next to the neatly arranged bowling balls. 

As you observe, a quizzical expression forms on your face, sensing a familiar object being retrieved from the dispenser – the tube that you have encountered before.

"How the hell did she find me?"

Reacting swiftly to the unexpected revelation, you rise from your seat and move closer to stand beside him.

As Five reached into his pocket, a glint of curiosity flickered in his eyes as he withdrew what initially appeared to be an innocent candy. 

However, his expression quickly shifted to dismay when he, and you too, realized that the sweet treat was, in fact, a sneaky tracking device cleverly disguised. 

"You idiot," you exclaimed in exasperation, your words tumbling out hastily as you seized the device from Five's hand, crushing it forcefully beneath your foot.

"You took something that snake of a woman offered you? Was that not suspicious to you?" Your agitation was evident as you ranted.

Five's demeanor shifted to one of regret, his eyes conveying a mixture of contrition and urgency. Holding out a piece of paper to you, he hesitated before revealing, "She wants both of us-"

"Well, I'm not going," you say sternly, crossing your arms, feeling a surge of frustration building up inside you. 

You had made up your mind, determined not to be persuaded. 

Five, with a subtle expression of regret on his face, reaches out to touch your arm gently, his eyes pleading with you. 

"Y/n, please. This could lead to something meaningful-" You cut him off with a heavy sigh, memories of past encounters with the person in question flooding back to you.

"Five, do you not remember what happened last time I saw her?" The hurt you felt in that moment flashing vividly through your mind, making it impossible for you to consider facing her again. 

You stand your ground, adamant in your decision despite the pleading in Five's eyes. 

The disappointment in his gaze tugs at your heartstrings, but you knew deep down that revisiting that painful past was simply not worth the risk. 

Five puts the paper down, his firm grip now encompassing both of your trembling arms as he gently caresses them with a soothing motion, sliding his hands up and down your forearms in a comforting gesture. 

"You'll be okay," he affirms with unwavering determination, peering into your eyes with a reassuring gaze. "I won't let you be alone with her, I swear it. She won't hurt you, I won't let her."

As your eyes well up with a storm of unshed tears, a tangled web of emotions surfacing within you, you release a shaky exhale, your voice quivering with fear and uncertainty. 

"Don't make me go," you implore, your words entwined with a plea for protection and safety, your vulnerability laid bare before him. 

"Please, Five, I... I can't do it.." The weight of your distress hangs heavy in the air, a palpable sense of desperation clinging to your every word.

"I'm sorry, Sparks," he whispers softly, his voice carrying a weight of regret and sadness as he addresses you.

Five, with an expression of guilt evident in his eyes, blinks you both away to a different location, seamlessly transporting you to the quiet hallway of am old hotel.

Feeling the need for reassurance, you instinctively grasp onto Five's arm as he confidently navigates the corridor, guiding the two of you with a gentle and reassuring touch until you reach your intended destination - room number 12.

As you cautiously step into the dimly lit room, the door ominously creaks open, revealing the unsettling sight that lies within. 

Leading the way is Five, his presence guiding you into the space in a mysterious yet determined manner. 

The Handler, an enigmatic figure known for her cunning ways, sits perched on the edge of the bed, her piercing gaze fixed upon you with a mixture of surprise and intrigue.

In the center of the room, an older lady remains bound to a chair, her eyes wide with fear and uncertainty as she hovers above a tub of boiling water. 

With The Handler clasping her pipe tightly in her hand, she breaks the silence with a voice that sends shivers down your spine. "I didn't expect you to actually come, dear," she remarks, her tone laced with a hint of amusement at your audacity.

Despite her words directed at you, you remain steadfast, refusing to acknowledge her presence or engage in the sinister game she seems eager to play. 

"You must really like doughnuts," Five remarks with a deadpan expression, a hint of sarcasm lacing his voice as he deliberately obstructs your presence from The Handler's view. 

The older lady, desperately seeking aid, tries to speak out, her cries for help stifled by the tape firmly covering her mouth.

"It's been a while," The Handler states with a nonchalant air, their indifference evident in the way they address the situation unfolding before them.

"Three days," five interjects sharply, his tone revealing the tension that simmers beneath the surface of the interaction.

"For you, maybe." The Handler shrugs. "But for me, it's been a lot longer since I've seen those adorable little shorts," she says with a wistful smile, her eyes lingering on you, trying to catch every detail of your appearance.

"Come on out, dear," she urges.

"Well, you've had time to heal," Five interjects, his tone firm and protective, shielding you from The Handler's probing gaze as he stands between you and her, a strong and reassuring presence.

The Handler sighs, dissapointed by not getting her way. "Luckily, for both of us, time... is the one thing my organization has an abundance of," she says, her fake smile fading slowly into a look of somber resolve mixed with a hint of calculated anticipation.

"Got your message, by the way," Five chuckles, but theres no sense of humor in it. 

"Nice packaging, but so much for Commission protocol," he comments dryly, his tone tinged with a touch of lingering bitterness from past encounters.

The Handler chuckles darkly. "There have been... a lot of changes since you left the Commission with my prized possession," she states, her voice steady and unwavering.

"You really did some damage," she adds, a sense of regret seeping through her words like shadows creeping in the night.

Inhaling deeply from her pipe, the smoke swirling around her like memories long forgotten, she continues, her gaze piercing and unwavering. "The briefcases were all but destroyed, to say nothing of the highly trained personnel you killed, after all, what is an institution if not for-"

"What do you want?" Five cuts her off, wanting to get to the point.

"To be happy," she answers, her voice soft yet filled with determined resolve. 

"To have a simple, unfettered life, to do the work my superiors require," she continues, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon as if searching for the answer within her own thoughts.

"But... your being here," she starts again, subtly glaring at five, her eyes narrowing slightly as if challenging him to understand her predicament. 

"Well, it complicates all that," she concludes with a sigh, the weight of her words hanging in the air like a heavy mist. 

"Billions of people are about to die tonight," Five snaps, his voice laced with anger and frustration at the dire situation unfolding before him. 

Standing resolute, he adds, "You can change that."

The Handler, unmoved by his urgency, dismisses his plea with a wave of her hand. "Tonight, tomorrow. So little difference in the grand scheme of things," she remarks cooly. "What's meant to be is meant to be, or, as the saying goes, que será, será." 

Unable to accept resignation, Five's frustration bubbles to the surface. "It's bullshit in any language." he asserts, his voice tinged with bitterness. In a desperate appeal for answers, he implores the Handler, "Why did you call us here?"

"I wanna offer you a choice," The Handler declared with a glint in her eyes, drawing you into the gravity of the decision at hand. 

She carefully produced a glass, its intricate details captivating her as she continued to speak. "Everyone's going to die tonight, but unlike the rest of the world, you have a way out." she explained ominously, fixing her gaze on Number Five.

As she laid out the options before you, each one veiling a consequence as dire as the next, the weight of the decision bore down on you heavily. "You can abandon your family and skip ahead to the apocalypse, take a walkabout for a few decades, wondering if I'll come back and offer you a job again, or you can stay here, with your family, and my favorite tool, and.. die a horrible death." She concluded with a chilling laughter, leaving you with a simmering sense of dread as your eyes found solace in the ground beneath you. 

"While you weigh your options, just know your siblings are fighting for their lives without you." she expressed, the clink of the drink against her elegant glass underscoring the gravity of the moment as a sense of realization dawned on both you and Five.

"You brought us here to pull us away." Five declared, his grip on your hand tensing with a mix of emotions.

With a bittersweet laughter, she mockingly bid farewell, "It's been nice knowing you, Five." 

"And this wont be the last you see me, y/n."

"This won't be the final curtain call between us."

~~~

A/N - almost done with season 1 omg!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

word count - 5666

[80pairsofcrocs]

spacial sparks || 14

Chapter warnings - mention of drug and alcohol use, needle scars, blood, injuries, whatever happened to harold ig, five and his glass eye <3, let me know if i missed anything

~~~

Second pov

~~~

"She's suffered a severe laceration to her larynx," Grace begins, tending to Allison, as the sense of urgency fills the room. "One of you will need to give blood," she adds, a look of concern etched on her face.

"I will," echoes almost everyone in the room, their willingness to help evident in their expressions.

"I will," Luther firmly says, standing his ground. "I'm doing it," he emphasizes, showing his determination to assist in any way he can.

However, Pogo steps in at that moment, gently diverting Luther's attention. "I'm afraid that's not possible, dear boy," he starts, gesturing towards himself with a reassuring smile. 

"Your blood is more compatible with mine," he concludes, understanding the importance of matching blood types for the successful transfusion.

Klaus hesitated for a moment before speaking up, his voice filled with a mix of reassurance and determination as he addressed the situation. "Hey, don't sweat it," he said, looking at the big guy in front of him. 

"I can handle this." A slight shiver ran down his spine as he added, "I... I love needles."

Pogo's voice cut through the tense atmosphere as he addressed Klaus with a touch of disapproval. "Master Klaus," he said sternly, "Your blood is... How shall I say this?"

"It's too polluted."

"Yeah, go on. I'll do it," Diego bravely declared, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty as he prepared himself for what was to come. His resolve wavered only when he caught sight of the gleaming needle, a simple yet intimidating tool that suddenly loomed large in his mind.

In that fleeting moment of doubt, Diego's demeanor shifted, betraying the facade of bravery he had so confidently worn just seconds before. 

A soft whimper escaped his lips, and his vision blurred before darkness enveloped him entirely.

Pogo, witnessing Diego's sudden descent into unconsciousness, couldn't help but let out a weary sigh. 

The weight of the situation settled heavily upon him, a stark reminder of the risks they faced in their line of work. 

"Stick him," Pogo instructed, his tone firm.

~~~

You find yourself in Five's dimly lit room, perched on the edge of his neatly-made bed, the weight of your thoughts pressing your head into your hands. 

The crimson stain seeping from your torn sleeves has left a trail across your pale face and fingers, the reminder of a moment too surreal to fully comprehend. 

As you gaze blankly ahead, the dried blood specks have morphed into grotesque patterns, mirroring the chaos swirling inside your mind.

Once, it was Five who bore the weight of your guilt, now replaced by Allison, a cruel twist of fate that twists the knife deeper into your already wounded conscience. 

In this fragmented moment of solitude, the bitter realization dawns on you that it should have been you, bearing the burden of their pain and suffering. 

They, your not-quite-family, are owed a life marked by happiness and health, untainted by the shadows that seem to follow you.

Yet, as the tendrils of self-blame threaten to consume you, a flicker of defiance surfaces within your weary heart. Despite the darkness clawing at your soul, a voice whispers that you, too, deserve a chance at solace and redemption. 

The internal battle rages on, a turbulent storm of conflicting emotions and shattered expectations, as you grapple with the conflicting notions of self-sacrifice and self-preservation.

In this moment of solemn reckoning, you hold fast to the fragile belief that amidst the chaos and despair, there exists a glimmer of hope for your own salvation.

As you sat there, engulfed in your thoughts, the sound of three distinct knocks against the doorframe abruptly pulled you from your inner reflection. 

Leaning casually on the doorway, Five's presence interrupted the solitude of your mind. "You disappeared there for a minute," he observed, his voice soft and understanding. 

Feeling the weight of his words, you let out a sigh, a subtle expression of your emotional exhaustion. 

With a gentle hand, you wiped away remnants of past tears from your cheeks, a physical reminder of the inner turmoil you were experiencing.

Unwilling or unable to articulate your thoughts, you remained quiet, lost in your internal struggle. Sensing your distress, Five moved closer, taking a seat beside you on the bed, offering silent support in his mere presence.

"It's all catching up to you.. I can see it," his voice broke the silence, filled with empathy and concern. 

His words echoed the unspoken turmoil within you, acknowledging the emotional storm brewing beneath your calm exterior. 

Seeking to console you, he gently nudged your arm, a subtle gesture.

"You're not alone here anymore, y/n," Five's soothing voice broke the heavy silence that enveloped the room. 

"We're in this together, through all the mistakes and regrets." The weight of his admission hung in the air as he ran a weary hand through his tousled hair, a gesture of resignation. "And it's not easy for you, especially with the withdrawals taking their toll on you."

Your exhaustion was palpable as you slowly lifted your gaze to meet Five's, a mix of weariness and defiance flickering in your eyes. His intense stare, filled with a mix of concern and understanding, lingered blood marks marring your face.

"We should clean you up before we head out," Five's voice held a firm resolve as he rose and extended a hand in offer of assistance. You hesitated, a myriad of conflicting emotions swirling within you, before shaking your head subtly.

"Just go on ahead without me," your voice was barely above a whisper, laced with a sense of defeat. "I'll catch up."

"Um, no," he said firmly as he kept his hand outstretched towards you.

"I just-" you started to plead.

"None of that. Come on." he interrupted as he reached for your hand, his touch warm and reassuring as he helped you up and guided you towards the bathroom. 

The familiar scent of soap and fresh towels enveloped you as you followed his lead.

As your feet shuffled into the bathroom, you couldn't help but notice how his hand felt firm yet gentle, a silent reassurance that you were not alone in this moment of vulnerability.

Five, in a tender and caring manner, guides you to take a seat on the closed toilet lid, surprisingly showing genuine concern for your well-being. 

He then moistens a soft wash cloth with warm water before kneeling before you, demonstrating a genuine gesture of care and support as he delicately wipes away the traces of blood from your face.

Gratitude fills you as you gaze at Five, appreciating his kindness and attentiveness. However, an undercurrent of guilt still lingers within you, a nagging feeling that he shouldn't have to go through this trouble for you.

With deliberate patience, Five continues to clean the blood from your face. 

His touch is soothing as he carefully smoothes your furrowed brow with the pad of his thumb, providing comfort and reassurance in the midst of chaos and uncertainty.

As you lean into the gentle touch, a sense of connection forms between you, the unspoken bond between you both palpable, locked in a silent exchange 

"I'm scared, Five," you admitted in a whisper, your voice tinged with fear and vulnerability.

Five responded with a single nod, his expression reflecting understanding and concern. He rose from his seat to rinse the washcloth, then returned to tenderly clean your hands.

"What exactly are you afraid of?" he inquired gently, his eyes maintaining a steady gaze on yours.

With a heavy sigh, you hesitated briefly before responding. "I'm afraid of seeing you and the others getting hurt. When we found Allison- the thought of losing her, of her never seeing her daughter again—it was too much."

"But she's safe now, Y/N," Five interjected, his voice calm yet filled with reassurance, as he set the washcloth down with a sigh.

In that moment, you felt a wave of gratitude for Five's supportive presence.

He smiles at you with gentle reassurance, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. "She'll be okay. I was okay too, and believe me, you will be okay as well." You can sense the sincerity in his voice as he tries to calm your anxieties.

Concern etched on your face, you raise the issue of Klaus, noting his peculiar behavior since his time-travel adventure. "What about Klaus? Ever since he went back in time, he seems so different," you express, your voice tinged with worry.

With a touch of urgency, he hushes you by placing a single finger delicately against your lips. "Shh," he murmurs softly. 

"Once we put a stop to the apocalypse, you will come to realize that I'm right, okay?" His words carry a sense of conviction, attempting to provide some solace in the midst of uncertainty.

As you process his statement, you find yourself blinking in contemplation. After a moment of reflection, you offer a hesitant nod in acknowledgement. 

"Good," Five nods reassuringly, a gentle smile playing on his lips, as he extends a helping hand to guide you back onto your feet. 

Standing chest to chest, a comfortable silence lingers between you both as your gazes lock, Five's warm hands securely holding onto yours, offering a sense of comfort and stability.

As the moment stretches on, you find yourself unconsciously leaning in slightly, a silent invitation that Five instinctively reciprocates, closing the physical space between you. 

You tentatively wrap your arms around him, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek as you rest your head against his chest, finding solace in the quiet intimacy shared between you both.

For a suspended moment, Five remains still, absorbing the embrace before a subtle shift in his posture signals his response, his hand now gently rubbing soothing circles on your back. 

The exchange of unspoken emotions and shared connection deepens as the hug becomes a silent understanding, a reassurance of support.

"Thank you," you say sincerely, the gratitude palpable in your voice as you hold Five close to you, finding solace in his presence.

Five returns your gratitude with a gentle nod, a reassuring smile playing on his lips, though you can't see it. He leans down, resting his chin on the top of your head, his closeness offering you a sense of security and warmth.

"We'll be okay," Five's voice is filled with unwavering confidence and optimism, his words resonating deep within your soul, instilling a sense of hope in the midst of uncertainty. 

"We all will," he assures you.

~~~

As Diego sharpened his knife, the urgency in his voice emphasized the danger that lingered, the threat unchallenged by the elusive enemy who had sought to harm their sister. 

"The bastard that nearly killed our sister's still out there, with Vanya." he declared, his eyes reflecting determination. "We need to go after her."

Five, ever the voice of reason, shook his head, showing a sign of weariness as he assessed the situation. "Vanya is not important." he emphasized, a sense of prioritization evident in his demeanor.

Before discussing your next steps, you and Five returned to the academy's common area, the gravity of the looming threat still hanging in the air. 

Standing side by side near the couch, you had changed out of the blood-stained sweater, the evidence of recent events now gone.

It was a detail worth noting that amidst the tension and action, you were still holding Five's hand, a physical gesture that conveyed trust, even in the face of uncertainty.

Diego, his eyes fixed on Five, expresses his disapproval at the comment regarding his sister. "Hey, that's your sister." he glares at Five. "A little heartless even for you, Five." he remarks sternly. 

As you sympathetically agree with Diego's sentiment, you shake your head in disbelief at Five's apparent lack of concern. "Thats mean, Five" 

Five, feeling the weight of his words, lets out a deep sigh. "I'm not saying I don't care about her, but if the apocalypse happens today, she dies along with the other seven billion of us." he rephrases. "Harold Jenkins is our first priority."

"I agree. Let's go." Diego asserts, his resolve unwavering. 

"You guys count me out," Klaus says, leaning his head back on the armchair he was sitting on, his words carrying a mix of vulnerability and resignation. 

"I mean, you know, no offense or whatever. It's just... I kind of feel like this is a whole lot of pressure for newly-sober me, so..." he trails off, his gaze darting away momentarily, a subtle sign of uncertainty. 

"You're coming,"

"yeah Klaus, come on," 

"No, no, no," Klaus waved his hands, his gestures accentuating the seriousness of his statement. "I mean, I think we can all agree that my power... well, it's not exactly the most practical, is it? In fact, let's face it, it's practically worthless. I would only drag all of you down."

"Klaus, get up," demanded Diego, his voice edged with a sense of urgency.

"You can't make me," Klaus responded cheekily, challenging Diego's authority.

Unperturbed, Diego displayed his mastery as he expertly hurled a knife with precision, aiming it between Klaus' legs. The blade cut through the air with a menacing swish, prompting Klaus to flinch and widen his eyes in a mixture of surprise and apprehension.

Klaus lets out a weary sigh, his thoughts drifting to the idea of getting some exercise. "Oh, then again, a little exercise couldn't hurt," he muses before pushing himself up from his seat. 

Taking a moment to stretch, he finally stands upright, all of you leaving the academy once again.

~~~

"What on earth is that smell- OH MY GOD!" you flinch back, taken aback by the nauseating stench that hit your senses, your eyes widening in horror as they fall upon the lifeless form of Harold Jenkins sprawled on the kitchen floor. 

Various kitchen utensils protrude from his chest, a grim sight that renders you speechless for a moment. 

The ghastly scene, compounded by one of his eyes missing from its socket, sends a shiver down your spine.

"Oh man.." Klaus reacts, instinctively covering his nose to shield himself from the putrid odor emanating from the macabre tableau. 

"It's not exactly what I was expecting," he remarks, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and unease.

In a futile attempt to cope with the gruesome sight, you let out a guttural groan of disgust, unable to tear your gaze away.

"The understatement of the year," Five remarks, his voice tinged with a hint of dark humor as he surveys the scene.

"No sign of Vanya-" Diego's voice trailed off as he glanced around anxiously, a sense of urgency creeping into his tone. "Let's get out of here, before the cops come."

"In a minute," Five responded calmly, his curiosity piqued as he took a few deliberate steps closer to the lifeless body sprawled on the floor, his hand reaching into his pocket. 

Diego couldn't hide his confusion, his brow furrowing as he watched Five's movements with a mix of disgust and intrigue. "Come on, Five, what are you..." His words faded into the air as Five knelt down beside the body, delicately pressing the glass eye into Harold's lifeless corpse.

Klaus couldn't contain his revulsion, a guttural retching noise escaping his lips as he witnessed the eerie scene unfold. "Ugh, wow," he managed to utter, a hint of unease coloring his voice amidst the tension hanging heavy in the room.

As you stand there, completely taken aback by what you are witnessing, your mouth hangs open in disbelief. "Five, is this necessary?" you manage to question, but the response you receive is anything but direct.

With a grin spreading across his face, Five explains, "Same eye color, same pupil size." he grins. "Guys this is it. The eye I've been carrying around for decades, it... It's found its rightful home."

As he turns to face all of you, the look of accomplishment and satisfaction is unmistakable on his smiling face.

In an attempt to show your support, you raise your hand in a thumbs-up gesture, though inside, you can't shake off the feeling of utter revulsion at the bizarre situation unfolding before you.

As Five reached back to retrieve the glass eye from the lifeless body, a rush of desperation took hold of you. "Wait, please, no -. Please, just leave it," you implored.

Ignoring your pleas, Five nonchalantly pocketed the eye, his face cold and unaffected by your distress.

Struggling to articulate your thoughts, you attempted to voice the overwhelming sense of unease that washed over you. "Do you even know how- how- how absolutely disgusting that is?" you questioned as Five drew nearer to you, his footsteps echoing in the dimly lit room.

With a dismissive shrug, he responded callously, "What? The guys dead. You think he needs it?"

Refusing to back down, you challenge him further. "Do you?"

Diego spoke up confidently, "We got the guy we needed to kill to stop the apocalypse."

"Yay! Let's go." Excitedly, Klaus began to make plans to depart, only to be halted by Diego's firm grip on the back of his shirt. 

Your keen observation revealed a critical detail, someone had already taken care of the target individual before them. 

"No we didn't, someone else got to him first." Five concurred with your assessment and reached into his other pocket, producing a note from the Commission. 

"Look, this is the note that I got from the Commission. The one that says, 'Protect Harold Jenkins,' aka Leonard Peabody." Gesturing towards the paper as evidence

"Yeah?"

Five seemed to be growing increasingly stressed by the second, his urgency palpable as he questioned, "But who killed him? Who did this?" 

In response, Klaus, known for his eccentricity, proposed a rather unconventional idea. "I have a crazy idea," he began. 

"Crazy, but why don't we seek out Vanya... and ask her what happened?" Your reaction was one of nonchalance as you simply shrugged in contemplation.

Upon hearing Klaus's suggestion, you found yourself unexpectedly agreeing with a hint of approval seeping into your tone. "That... is actually not a bad idea," you admitted. 

Five reached out and grasped your arm tightly before suddenly activating his temporal abilities, transporting both of you back to the academy in a blur of motion.

"Dude, we should go back and help them," you huff impatiently while staring off in the direction where the others are struggling. 

"You can't keep just blinking me everywhere you go, Five," you warn with a firm tone.

A look of determination crosses Five's face as he meets your gaze, his eyes revealing a sense of responsibility beyond his years. 

"I can't leave you with Klaus," he asserts, his voice carrying a weight of concern that you can't ignore.

Confusion clouds your expression as you process his words, trying to understand his intentions. "What do you mean?" you inquire, seeking clarity in the midst of the chaos unfolding around you.

With a steady voice, Five begins to explain his reasoning, painting a picture of caution and foresight. 

"He may be sober on his own terms right now, but you're not," he states matter-of-factly, emphasizing the importance of your well-being in this precarious situation. 

"You're staying with me so you don't get tempted," he concludes, the seriousness of his words sinking in as you come to grasp the depth of his concern.

You scoffed, clearly offended by the lack of trust. "Do you seriously doubt me that much?" you questioned.

"Less than a day ago, you were on the brink of drowning yourself in alcohol," Five pointed out, reminding you of the dangerous situation you had put yourself in.

Feeling defensive, you dismissed the comparison with a casual wave of your hand. "That was different," you retorted, trying to downplay the severity of your past actions.

Five clenches his jaw, the tension evident in the rigid lines of his face as he looks at you with genuine anger. "It is not different," he states firmly, his voice laced with a hint of warning. 

"Don't you dare think I forgot about those pills you threw up either, or the joint you shared with Klaus at the funeral. Or that shit you put in your coffee at Griddy's."

"Weed is legal-"

Five cuts you off before you can finish. "But were those pills?" he challenges, his gaze piercing through you. 

You stumble over your words, trying to backtrack. "Well, not necessarily," you admit sheepishly.

The air between you grows heavy with unspoken accusations as Five's anger hovers palpably around him like a storm cloud. His clenched jaw speaks volumes about his pent-up frustration and disappointment in you. 

The weight of his disapproval presses down on you, making it hard to meet his intense gaze.

"How long has it been..?" As you asked about the time since the last time you consumed drugs or alcohol, you could sense a mix of guilt in your stomach

Five took a moment to collect his thoughts, exhaling deeply before revealing, "I suppose it's been nearly two days now."

Your response was a quiet hum as you absorbed the reality of the situation. Such a short span of time, and yet the weight of the impending withdrawal symptoms lingered like a shadow over your thoughts. 

"Wow.. Once the adrenaline wears off I'm going to feel like shit." You remarked with a forced chuckle that failed to mask the apprehension in your voice. 

The bitter truth lay in the stark contrast between the fleeting high and the enduring pain that awaited – a cycle that seemed unbreakable at times.

Five's expression carried a tinge of disappointment as his eyes settled on you. With a tone tinged with concern, he remarked, "You can't just go back to that lifestyle, just take a look at yourself."

An air of solemnity surrounded his actions as he gently raised your sleeve, his fingers grazing over the rehabilitation bracelet adorning your wrist.

His touch then traced over the faint marks left by old needles on your forearm, just above the inked design that you had gotten from the Commission. 

Despite noticing the scars, he chose not to voice any judgment. The unspoken understanding between you both was palpable in that moment, a silent acknowledgment of your struggles.

The weight of his unspoken words lingered in the air, echoing the concern and care he held for you. It was in those quiet actions and shared glances that conveyed more than words ever could. 

You let out a heavy sigh, your gaze fixed on him as you contemplate his words. "If you stick around for a bit after all of this, I guess I'll give sobriety a shot," you confess.

Five scoffs dismissively before releasing his grip on you, his expression now serious. "It's not just about giving it a shot, Sparks," he asserts firmly. 

"You are done with that destructive cycle. It's time to let go." His words carry a hint of concern.

With a resigned exhalation, you acknowledge, "I understand that. It's just..." You pause, your arms folding across your chest as you try to articulate the struggles you face. 

"It's been such a long time..," you concede, a hint of vulnerability seeping through. "I mean, years have passed since I was sober."

Five nodded affirmatively, his expression a mix of determination and certainty. 

"Well, now I'm here, and when I commit, I commit," he declared, his hands finding their place confidently on his hips.

"Speaking of commitments, we should probably figure out where Vanya went," you playfully suggested, a glint of mischief in your eyes. "At least after we relax a little."

Five exhaled audibly, a hint of resignation evident in his voice. "You're right. Since when have you become so punctual?" he quizzed, raising an eyebrow in genuine curiosity.

"I suppose you're rubbing off on me a little," you admitted with a light chuckle.

"Don't let it go to your head."

~~~

Diego had unexpectedly barged into the academy only moments later, claiming to have unfinished business with Hazel and Cha-Cha before hastily departing again.

Despite the abrupt intrusion, there was still no sign of Vanya, her absence casting a lingering shadow over your thoughts. 

Concern for her well-being crept into your mind, as you couldn't shake off the worry entirely, although a slight sense of relief filled you knowing that her psycho boyfriend was no longer a threat. 

Now, perched at the bar, you fixed a stern gaze on Five, who nonchalantly prepared himself a margarita, the deliberate action not escaping your notice.

 It was clear that he was purposefully trying to provoke a reaction, his smug demeanor only adding to your growing frustration.

"Quit shaking," Five said with a playful tone, caused by the subtle movement of your bouncing leg under the table. 

"I'm making you one too," Five added, making a gesture towards the leg in question. 

Your eyes lit up with excitement upon hearing this news. "Really?" you asked, unable to contain your grin. 

Matching your smile, Five responded with a smirk of his own. "A virgin margarita," he teased, trying to play down your enthusiasm. 

You groan in exhaustion, your head finding solace on the familiar wooden surface of the countertop. "The apocolypse is over, why cant I just have a little?" Your voice carries a touch of yearning.

"Because you'll be too tempted to have more." Five responds nonchalantly.

He effortlessly slides a glass towards you, the condensation glistening under the dim light, and playfully places a decorative umbrella in your drink. 

With a smirk, he continues, "And as your mentor, apparently, I won't let you take that risk."His conviction is unwavering.

As you raise your head, a gentle sigh escapes your lips, conveying your gratitude as you nod in acknowledgment before taking a sip of the drink. 

"It doesn't even burn on the way down, this sucks." You remark.

"Yet here you are, continuing to drink it," Five comments casually, adjusting Dolores on the seat beside him before joining you, settling down comfortably.

Absently swirling the drink in your glass with the straw, you find yourself unable to sit still, your leg unconsciously bouncing up and down in a restless rhythm.

Five's comforting touch lands gently on your thigh, effectively halting your restless fidgeting.

"Stop it," he interjects, not bothering to meet your gaze as he casually takes a sip from his beverage, his tone firm yet reassuring.

Feeling his presence, you heed his request and obediently cease your nervous movements, your eyes drifting downwards to the unassuming floor beneath you.

Eventually, Five's eyes return to meet yours, his expression now filled with a mix of empathy and wisdom. 

"You'll get through it. Once the itch for more stops it'll be easy." he imparts in a tone that conveys both understanding and encouragement.

You scoffed in disbelief, your voice tinged with a hint of annoyance. "Nothing's ever easy, Five," you began, a touch of exasperation evident in your tone. 

"And I'm not itching for it-" Your words trailed off, a mixture of frustration and resignation coloring your expression as you spoke.

Amused by your attempt at denial, Five couldn't stifle a laugh, his eyes twinkling mischievously. In response, you flung your decorative umbrella in his direction, a playful hint of irritation in your actions. 

"You're not funny." 

Rolling his eyes, Five removed his hand from your now motionless thigh, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, please," he retorted, a playful arrogance evident in his expression. 

"I'm hilarious," he declared confidently, a teasing glint in his eyes as he spoke.

As you sat there, finishing off the last drops of your drink, you couldn't help but sense a newfound sense of refreshment washing over you. 

It was a strange feeling, considering the absence of any alcohol.

Looking up, you noticed Five observing you with a knowing smile. "Seems like you enjoyed it," he remarked, earning a curious look from you in return.

"So what if I did?" You replied, feeling a sense of defiance bubbling within you.

Five simply shrugged, his nonchalant demeanor never faltering. "So now, whenever you feel that familiar craving for a drink, just remember that feeling. Maybe that's all you need instead."

His words lingered in the air, stirring a mix of contemplation and intrigue within you. 

Could a simple non-alcoholic drink really satisfy those persistent cravings you often succumbed to? 

It was a thought worth pondering as you finished the last of your drink, a newfound sense of possibility blooming within you.

"Since when are you 'teacher of the year'?" you inquire, leaning slightly closer to Five, who responds with a brief chuckle. 

"Since I decided you were worth my time." he muses.

"And when did you decide that?" you press curiously.

"Eh, I guess when you helped stop the end of the world."he answers, gazing at you with an affectionate smile. "No big deal or anything."

As you both leaned closer, exchanging smiles, you casually brushed a tiny speck of dust off Five's shoulder, a small but intimate gesture that seemed to draw you even closer. 

"Not a big deal, huh?" you quipped playfully, breaking the brief tension with a light touch.

Seeing your smile, Five's smirk widened almost imperceptibly before he impulsively took hold of your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours in a bold move. 

"Nah, not at all. There are more pressing matters to attend to," he replied cryptically, his gaze lingering on yours.

Curious about his cryptic response, you prodded gently, "Oh? Like what?" sensing a shift in the air between you two as he set his drink aside. 

Without missing a beat, Five brought his free hand up to sweep a loose strand of hair from your face, his touch sending a rush of warmth through you. 

The subtle gesture, though seemingly innocuous, carried an unspoken promise of closeness and shared moments to come.

"Well, for one, I need to get clothes that aren't just the academy uniforms," he jokes, chuckling at the familiar topic. His playful smirk infectious.

Observing his playful complaint, you can't help but make a pouting face, adding a touch of mock lament to your expression. 

"Aw, but it's so adorable, seeing you in that sweater vest, and your cute little tie," you playfully tease, your eyes glinting mischievously. 

Reaching out to lightly tug on his tie, you pull him a bit closer, enjoying the proximity as your laughter fills the space between you.

Five glares are directed right at you, playful in nature. "It's anything but cute, sparky," he begins, his fingers leisurely tracing down to gently caress your cheek. "If anything is cute, it's that stupid grin on your face."

In that moment, a warm flush engulfs your cheeks as you realize the truth of his words. The presence of that foolish smile on your lips becomes evident. 

It seems like a light switch flicking on, enlightening you to a truth that was previously hidden. Your heart flutters a bit, caught off guard by the unexpected thrill of his touch and the charming words he spoke. 

The air around you seems charged with a newfound electricity, a magnetic pull drawing you closer to him. A delightful shiver runs down your spine, marking this encounter as a moment to be cherished. 

As Five leaned in closer, his breath mingled with yours, the warmth of his proximity palpable against your skin. His nose almost teasingly brushed yours, creating a subtle electricity in the shared air. 

"I can't tell if it's the absence of alcohol or simply just me that has you trembling," he mused, his tone a delicate mix of curiosity and amusement.

With gentle precision, he extended a single finger to your neck, seeking out the rapid, erratic pulse beneath your skin. 

You couldn't help but inhale shakily, the closeness of his touch sending a cascade of sensations through your body. 

"Oh, my dear, you poor thing," he whispered, voice soft and empathetic, "your heartbeat is through the roof right now."

His words resonated in the charged atmosphere between you, adding a layer of intimacy to the shared moment. 

You close your eyes to savor the moment as Five leans in closer, his warm breath teasing your skin before his lips lightly brush against yours. 

And then.. the doorbell rings.

~~~

A/N - oops they dont kiss (yet) and five making himself your mentor to stay sober is just too cute to pass up.

too bad they dont have long before they are seperated lmao </3

word count -  5334

[80pairsofcrocs]

spacial sparks || 13

Chapter warnings - mention of past wounds, blood, injuries, knives, mention of suicide, weapons, sobriety and the lack thereof, let me know if i missed anything

~~~

Second pov

~~~

Seated around the old, slightly chipped kitchen table were you, Five, Klaus, and Luther, the atmosphere laced with the aroma of the undrinkable sludge you called coffee. 

Your head lay on the worn wood, a testament to the exhaustion that seemed to seep into your bones. With a mischievous glint in his eye, Klaus couldn't resist poking fun at the sight before him.

"So, I saw you sleeping together," Klaus proclaimed in a sing-song voice, clearly amused by the opportunity to tease you.

Weary, you lifted your head from the table, your attempt at a retort laced with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "That's because we were. Quite literally sleeping," you quipped, feeling the need to defend against the teasing.

Unfazed by your response, Klaus continued his teasing, gesturing dramatically as he spoke. "Because you were sleepy from all the—"

"No." Five cut in with his usual straightforwardness, taking a casual sip of his less-than-appetizing coffee. 

You nod along. "I can assure you that Five is still a sad, lonely virgin," you affirm gently.

Five shoots a pointed glare in your direction "I am not-" 

"Can we focus, please?" Luther's voice cuts through the tension, his tone tinged with a hint of exasperation. 

Clearly tired of the ongoing discussion surrounding Five's... personal life, Luther redirects the conversation. "Has anyone seen the others? Allison? Diego?"

"Not since yesterday," you confirm.

Klaus, fueled by a surge of energy, forcefully bangs his fist on the sturdy wooden table, causing a resonating thud that echoes across the room. 

"All right, then, this is the closest thing to a quorum that we're gonna get," he declares, his voice carrying a sense of urgency. 

Taking a deep breath, he continues, his tone serious and unwavering, "Now, listen up- There's no easy way to say this, so I'm just gonna spit it out," his words hanging heavily in the tense atmosphere.

Luther, visibly concerned, expresses his disapproval by shaking his head in a solemn manner. "This is a bad idea," 

"Klaus-" you start, your voice trailing off as you prepare to address the escalating tension.

"I conjured Dad last night," Klaus says quickly, the whole room falling into a hushed silence that lingered heavily in the air, almost as if his words had momentarily frozen time itself.

Luther, with a perplexed expression etched across his face, interjects, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and curiosity, "You said you haven't been able to conjure anyone in years." his gaze fixed firmly on Klaus, seeking an explanation to this sudden revelation.

Klaus, wearing a triumphant grin that seemed to illuminate his entire face, responds with a newfound sense of clarity, "Ah, yes, I know, but I'm sober. Ta-da!" his eyes glinting with a sense of accomplishment as he reveals his recent victory over past struggles.

Intrigued by Klaus' breakthrough, you chime in softly, your voice filled with genuine admiration, "Oh wow.. Congratulations"

Turning towards you, Klaus shares his contagious enthusiasm, his eyes alight with encouragement, "Yes! and if you try too, you can do it, little buddy" he pokes your nose. 

"But anyways, I got clean yesterday to talk to someone.. special, and then ended up having this... conversation with dear old Daddy himself." gently playfully poking your nose again, a common gesture between you two.

"You really did it.." you say, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as Klaus nods in affirmation, his eyes gleaming with pride.

Luther heaves a weary sigh, his hand moving to his temple in a gesture of discomfort. "Has anyone got some aspirin?" he inquires with a hint of desperation underlying his voice.

"Ah, yes, the aspirin," Five chimes in, his tone almost playful despite the serious moment. "It's on the top shelf, right next to the crackers," he directs Luther, a mischievous glint in his eye as if he's enjoying the chaos surrounding them more than he lets on.

Klaus frowns at his brothers, a deep crease forming between his brows as he emphasizes the seriousness of the situation. "Hey, hey, hey, this is serious, guys, all right?" Luther, with a skeptical expression on his face, shoots Klaus a look, silently urging him to continue. 

"This really happened, I swear," Klaus reiterates, a mixture of exasperation and sincerity in his tone.

Feeling the weight of the moment settle upon them, Five sets his coffee cup down with a resolute thud, signaling his readiness to engage in the discussion. 

"Okay, fine. I'll play," he concedes, his voice betraying a mixture of curiosity and impatience. "What did the old man have to say?" 

"Well, he gave me the usual lecture about my appearance and my failures in life," Klaus explains, his hand gesturing dismissively. "Yada yada yada," he adds, a wry smile playing at the corners of his lips as he brushes off the old man's criticisms. 

Pausing for a moment, Klaus's expression shifts, a flicker of vulnerability briefly surfacing in his eyes before he continues with a shrug, "But you know how he is-"

"Klaus-"

"Right, right. No surprise there. Even the afterlife couldn't soften a hardass like Dad, right? But he did mention something about his murder, or lack thereof, because..." Klaus pauses dramatically.

"Wait for it.."

You just stare, confused.

"He killed himself." he reveals.

"I don't have time for your games, Klaus," Luther groans as he turns away from his brother's pleading gaze. 

Klaus, clearly hurt by the rejection, insists, "I'm telling you the truth, Luther, I'm telling you the truth." 

Curious about the unfolding drama, Five pipes up, breaking the tense moment with a question, "Why'd he do it, then?" You find yourself nodding in agreement, eager for answers. 

With a troubled expression, Klaus explains, "He said it was the only way to get us all home again-" His voice trails off.

"No," Luther argued emphatically, refusing to accept the idea that his father would take his own life. "Dad wouldn't just kill himself. There must be another explanation." 

As the family discussed the situation, Five pointed out that their father had been exhibiting signs of depression. "Ah, you said it yourself," Five interjected, " He was depressed. Holed up in his office and room all day and night."

"Suicidal people exhibit certain tendencies, strange behaviors."

"Like sending someone to the moon for no reason?"

"I swear to God, Klaus, if you're lying..." Luther warns, his voice tinged with a mix of anger and concern, his eyes piercing into Klaus' with a sense of betrayal lurking beneath the surface.

"I'm not. I'm not," Klaus defends himself, his tone wavering slightly as he tries to make his point clear, the unease evident in his eyes as he searches for any glimmer of trust in Luther's expression.

"Master Klaus is correct," you all turn to see Pogo, the wise and loyal chimpanzee, stepping forward with a somber demeanor that hangs heavy in the room. 

"Regretfully," the monkey sighs sadly, the weight of his confession echoing through the silence that follows, leaving a lingering sense of guilt that hangs in the air like a heavy shroud.

"I helped Master Hargreeves enact his plan," Pogo's words land like a thunderclap, shattering the fragile peace that once existed among the siblings. 

Luther's jaw tightens, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief as he struggles to process the depth of deceit that has been uncovered in their midst.

"So did Grace," Pogo looks regretful, his expression a mixture of sorrow and guilt. "It was a difficult choice for both of us. More difficult than you could ever know," he continues, voice tinged with a sense of heavy responsibility. 

"Prior to your father's death, Grace's programming was adjusted so that she was incapable of administering first aid on that fateful night," he explains, his gaze filled with a deep sadness.

Five shakes his head, "Sick bastard."

"So the security tape we saw?"

"It was meant to further the murder mystery," Pogo confirms, the weight of the truth settling heavily upon his shoulders.

Luther raises an eyebrow skeptically at Pogo's words, his disbelief written all over his face. "Your father hoped that being back here, solving it together... would reignite your desire to be a team again, to come together once more like the family we once were," Pogo's voice is gentle but firm as he delivers this message, each word laced with a mix of nostalgia and hope. 

Luther remains silent for a moment, processing the weight of those words before finally asking, "And to what end?"

Pogo's response is immediate, filled with unwavering certainty, "To save the world, of course. Your father believed in the strength of your bond, the power of your unity to overcome even the greatest challenges that the world may throw your way."

Klaus listens to this exchange with a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, before letting out a laugh that is equal parts disbelief and resignation. "Yeah. All right,"

Luther, his emotions heightened from the shock of recent revelations and feeling betrayed, let out another disbelieving scoff. 

"First the Moon mission and now this," he grimaced. "You watched me search for answers and said nothing. Anything else you want to share, Pogo?" His voice grew louder with a mix of frustration and hurt. "Any other damn secrets that have been hidden from us all this time?"

"Hey, calm down, Luther-"

But Luther's vexation only intensified, his voice echoing with bitterness, "No, I won't calm down!" he erupted. "We've been lied to by the one person in this family we all trusted!"

Seeking to explain himself, Pogo hesitated before admitting, "It was your father's dying wish, Master Luther." he sighs. "I... I had no choice."

"There's always choice."

You watch the exchange uncomfortably, feeling out of place. The tension in the air thickens as you observe Five grabbing your arm, a sense of urgency evident in his actions as he prepares to jump you both elsewhere. 

The sudden rush of movement disorients you momentarily before settling in Five's room once again, the familiar blue light casting a glow around you. 

As you try to gather your thoughts in this new setting, you can't help but notice Five's demeanor. His usually composed features betray a hint of worry, his eyes reflecting the weight of the situation.

"Are you okay?" you inquire softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Five's single nod carries a world of unspoken words, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of determination and weariness. 

"I will be when this is all over," he finally responds, his voice tinged with a quiet resolve that both comforts and unsettles you.

"Turn around," Five said, his voice firm yet tinged with weariness as he began the process of shedding his current outfit. 

With a sense of urgency, you pivoted on your heel, your eyes now fixed on the darkened expanse beyond the glass window.

A frown creased your brow. "This doesn't sit right with you, does it?" you probed, your concern palpable in the dimly lit room.

Five let out a dry chuckle, the hint of a bitter smile briefly appearing on his face. "No, but then again, when has anything felt right lately?" his words carried a weight that seemed to reflect the heaviness of the world around you.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips, mingling with the tension that hung in the air. "You have a point there," you conceded.

"We will make it, Five," you reassure, turning back around when you feel a tap on your back. 

Five stands in front of you, his expression tense as he nods to himself. "I know," he affirms decisively. "Let's go then, we don't have time." 

In sync with him, you follow Five's lead as he heads towards Klaus' room. The urgency in his movements is palpable.

"Hey, Klaus, get up," Five demands, his impatience evident as he lightly knocks on Klaus' door before entering, his piercing gaze fixed on the fumbling mess of yarn and knitting needles within the room. "We're going," he adds firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Klaus, visibly exasperated, throws the needles down in frustration and questions, "Where?"

With a sense of duty in his voice, Five responds, "To save the world."

Klaus, ever the sarcastic one, quips, "Oh, is that all? Great."

As we found ourselves back in Five's room listening to his animated rant, he questioned, "So, Pogo said Dad killed himself to get us all back together, right?" 

Klaus simply shrugged in response. "Yeah, so?" 

Five continued, delving deeper with his thoughts, "So it got me thinking, I had to jump to the future to figure out when it happened, but Dad, he can't time travel. So how'd the crazy bastard actually know to kill himself a week before the end of the world?" 

 With a thoughtful expression, Klaus began to speak, "Well, you know..." but his words trailed off, hinting at the complexity of their father's mysterious actions.

"Don't answer. That was purely rhetorical," Five shakes his head in disbelief. "Truth is, our whole lives, he's been telling us we'd save the world from an impending apocalypse."

"Yeah, but I always thought he just said that to scare us into doing the dishes." Klaus muses with a light chuckle, effortlessly slipping on his shoes, a gesture that brings a fond smile to your face.

"Me too. But what if the old man really knew it was going to happen?"Five remarks pensively, his voice betraying a hint of uncertainty. 

That underlying sense of unease starts to manifest within you, causing you to internally acknowledge the unsettling thought. 

"Yeah, but knew how?" Klaus inquires, crossing his arms in a contemplative manner, his brow furrowed as he sought answers that seemed just out of reach.

"No idea," Five begins, his voice tinged with a sense of frustration as he continues pacing back and forth in the room. 

"But the fact remains, his fakakta plan worked," he adds with a hint of disbelief.

"Fakakta," you repeat, the unfamiliar word rolling off your tongue with a tone of curiosity, as if trying to decipher its meaning from the context in which it was used.

Five rolls his eyes in a mixture of frustration and amusement as he looks at you. "But, we all came home." he remarks with a dismissive tone before gesturing towards you. "And then some. We're here, we might as well save the world."

Klaus has a perplexed expression on his face. "Oh yeah? What, like, the three of us?"

With a nonchalant shrug, Five's hands casually rest in his pockets as he continues, "Uh, well, ideally, no, but... gotta work with what I've got." 

The sound of running footsteps reverberated up the stairs, causing your heart to race with anticipation until you finally laid eyes on the familiar figure of Diego. 

"Where have you been?" Five inquired, curiosity evident in his tone.

"Jail." Diego admitted nonchalantly, prompting a gasp from you as your eyes widened.

"You of all people giving me a hard time for it-" you retorted.

Diego's frustrated expression deepened as he furrowed his brow. "Long story," he said abruptly, interrupting your thought. 

His eyes scanned the room as if searching for answers. "Where's Luther?"

"Haven't seen him since breakfast."

Diego's jaw tightened, the gravity of the situation apparent. "Yeah. Two days until the world ends, he picks a great time to drop off the grid," he remarked with a hint of sarcasm, the worry evident in his voice as he swiftly prepared for action, securing knives in all his holsters.

With a mix of determination and humor, he declared, "Well, suit up. We're finding him and putting an end to this whole end-of-the-world thing."

~~~

Diego had just disclosed that Allison was in imminent danger because of Vanya's boyfriend, who happened to be a confirmed murderer. 

Now, you found yourself in a surreal situation, confined to the car while the three brothers engaged in a persuasive conversation trying to convince Luther to accompany you for assistance.

Five had given you strict instructions to remain inside the vehicle, warning against the allure of the bar. 

The caution was necessary to prevent you from succumbing to the temptation of relapsing into old habits by sneaking some alcohol.

Despite your efforts to resist, a persistent craving for just a small sip of liquor lingered in the back of your mind, threatening to break your resolve.

You gazed out the window with a mixture of impatience and anxiety, anxiously awaiting the return of Klaus, Diego, Luther, and Five from the bar. 

The minutes felt like hours as you pondered the precarious situation that Allison was in, the weight of the impending danger weighing heavily on your shoulders.

Finally, the sight of the brothers emerging from the bar and headed towards the car brought a sense of relief, tinged with a newfound sense of determination to face the challenges ahead and ensure Allison's safety.

Five took the wheel and steered the car away from the bar, causing you to lean in closer to Luther to start a conversation. 

"Did you bring anything out with you?" you inquired. "Like, maybe a seltzer or something?" Your words were abruptly cut off as Five unexpectedly struck you in the back of the head.

"I already said no. You're not drinking tonight," he declared firmly, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

"Yeah, whatever," you grumbled in response, slightly irritated by his strictness. 

~~~

"Hey. Can you go any faster?" Luther inquired, his voice slightly tinged with frustration, as if seconds were slipping away too quickly. 

"Ask me again, and I'll burn you with the cigarette lighter." Five retorted sharply.

Nevertheless, he defiantly pressed the gas pedal further down, determined to reach their destination as quickly as possible.

After what seemed like an eternity but in reality was just a mere few minutes, the car finally pulled up in front of the wood cabin tucked away in the heart of the dense woods. 

Fear coursed through the group as you all hastily made your way out of the vehicle, your eagerness evident in the way you all sped over to the front door, Luther way ahead of all of you.

"Something doesn't feel right," you whisper urgently as a chill runs down your spine, causing your heart to race. 

The sound of Luther's piercing scream echoes through the house, sending a jolt of fear through your veins. "Allison!!"

Your feet carry you swiftly into the house, shoes clicking frantically against the hardwood floor, each step a drumbeat of trepidation. The scene that unravels before your eyes is a nightmare come to life. 

Luther, usually carefree, is now a broken mess, his arms cradling Allison's near lifeless form. 

Her once vibrant eyes now blink rapidly, a stark contrast to the flow of crimson blood staining everything it touches, a stark reminder of the horrific truth.

"No- No! Allison!" The words catch in your throat, choked with grief and disbelief as you press your trembling fingers against her fragile pulse, frantically searching for a flicker of hope. 

The warmth of her blood seeps through the fabric of your clothing, a visceral reminder of the fragility of life.

With tears blurring your vision, you gather all your resolve, your hands shaking as you press your sleeve against her grievous wound, a feeble attempt to staunch the flow and hold on to the dwindling thread of hope that she may yet be saved. 

Desperation filled your voice as you frantically pleaded with an unseen presence for mercy. The weight of relentless fear pressed down on you, the thought of losing Allison unbearable.

Adrenaline surged through you, your hands working instinctively to staunch the flow of blood from Allison's wound, gripping your sleeve to her throat with a sense of urgency.

"Please, no," your voice quavered, a mix of helplessness and anguish as Luther carefully lifted Allison and carried her towards the waiting car. 

The touch of Five's firm grasp on your arm was the only anchor preventing you from fully crumbling, your trembling hands a stark contrast to the tense control in his touch. 

Emotions swirled within you, a storm of concern and fear raging through every fiber of your being as you were forced to relinquish your hold on Allison and watch her being taken away to safety.

You let out a shaky sob, the weight of your emotions becoming too heavy to bear in that moment. With tears streaming down your face, you found solace in the simple act of covering your pained expression with your hands. 

"I can't keep doing this," the words escaped your lips in a mix of desperation and exhaustion. "Five, you guys are all I've got," the vulnerability in your voice laid bare the depth of your dependence on the support of those closest to you.

As the reality of everything you've endured in the past few days sank in, the feeling of being overwhelmed consumed you entirely. It was as if a dam had burst within you, unleashing a flood of pent-up emotions and turmoil that had been building relentlessly. 

The weight of each struggle and hardship you had faced recently culminated in that single moment of raw emotion, leaving you breathless and lost in a sea of turbulent thoughts and feelings. 

The facade of strength you had worn for so long cracked under the pressure, revealing the vulnerable soul underneath that simply sought comfort and understanding in the midst of the storm.

Five sighs as he guides you with gentle reassurance back to the car.

"You won't"

He takes your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Not anymore."

~~~

A/N - oops short chapter, see you tomorrow :)))

word count - 3580

[80pairsofcrocs]

spacial sparks || 12

Chapter warnings - mention of alcohol and drugs, knives, gun mention, shrapnel wound, blood, mention of stitches, whatever bro has going on in his attic, mention of open wounds and cauterizing, five being kind of a bitch, let me know if i missed anything.

~~~

Second pov

~~~

After driving you, Five, and Allison to the police station, Diego parked the car and the three of you stepped out onto the busy street. 

While Allison hurried off to find a phone booth to make a call, you and Five remained standing by the entrance, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you. 

Feeling the tension, you eventually broke the silence by awkwardly shifting and turning to face Five with a conflicted expression.

"I should apologize, properly," you hesitated, your voice tinged with regret as Five turned to you, a puzzled look etched on their brow. 

"I should have been honest from the start, especially when you discovered my identity as 'Electra.' It wasn't right of me to keep the fact that A.J. is my father a secret from you," you confessed, your words carrying the weight of withheld truths.

With a heavy sigh, you continued, "So, I'm... sorry," your apology pouring forth as you avoided meeting Five's gaze, the authenticity of your words ringing true despite the turmoil within you.

Five let out a laugh, more of a scoff, as he commented on the situation. "Yeah, you should have told me sooner," he said, causing you to stiffen with a hint of unease. 

"But no harm was done, so I don't see a problem," he added with a pause. "Actually, it just confuses me - you're the adopted daughter of the head of the board, and you didn't say anything?"

Your eyes finally turned to Five, catching the mischievous grin plastered on his face. "I'll smack that smirk off your face," you retorted with an eye roll.

However, Five persisted, emphasizing the seriousness of the scenario. "I could have easily threatened you for information," he mentioned casually with a shrug, causing you to stare back at him in disbelief.

"I can't take you seriously, dude," you replied, trying to shake off the absurdity of his remark.

Five narrows his eyes at you, his expression reflecting a mix of annoyance and curiosity as he directs his gaze towards your uneasy form. "It's the adolescent body I'm in, isn't it?" he probes, each word laced with a hint of rhetorical inquiry.

Unable to fully meet his intense scrutiny, you involuntarily wince, your admission coming out in a reluctant nod. "Yeah.. and unfortunately I'm in the same boat." 

His response is a blend of surprise and amusement, the corners of his lips twitching slightly as he processes your confession. "Oh really? I couldn't tell"  he retorts, his tone teasing.

Despite his jest, your own competitive spirit flares up, prompting a retort that bears a hint of playful defiance. "Eat shit, Five" you reply.

Diego emerged from the police station, the weight of the file palpable in his hand as a victorious grin played on his features. "Got it!" he exclaimed, hastening towards the waiting group. 

Allison, noticing Diego's return, hurried over to join the growing circle around him, anticipation sparking in her eyes. 

As Diego fumbled with the file, a hint of mischief colored his voice as he uttered, "You're welcome," in a tone tinged with sarcasm.

Upon opening the file, a mix of astonishment and disbelief painted Allison's expression as she eagerly snatched it from Diego's grasp, her eyes widening with each passing second.

"Holy shit," she muttered breathlessly, scanning the contents and absorbing the gravity of the information revealed within.

Confusion rippled through the group as you and Diego mirrored each other's puzzled expressions, prompting you to inquire simultaneously, "What?" The tension in the air was nearly tangible as you waited for her to disclose the contents of the file, your curiosity piqued.

"Harold Jenkins is Leonard Peabody," she announces, holding the file up for you to see. You tilt your head in confusion, trying to make sense of the unexpected revelation.

"Wait, what?" you inquire, wanting to grasp the full extent of the situation.

Allison's frustration is palpable as she lets out a groan. "Yes, Harold—uh, Leonard, is Vanya's boyfriend. He was at the academy earlier today," she elaborates, connecting the dots for you.

The piece of information about Vanya having a boyfriend catches you off guard. "...Vanya has a boyfriend?" you question.

Allison began to express her disbelief, "how could you not know this-" but before she could finish, Diego swiftly interrupted her with a revelation. 

"Because she's been in and out of rehab," Diego stated, revealing the rehab bracelet still secured around your wrist, a tangible reminder of the struggles you've faced. 

Five, seemingly unfazed, expressed his disappointment with a simple, "pitiful."

Feeling a surge of defiance, you shot a sharp glance at Five before forcefully pulling your hand away from Diego's grip. "Well, there's an address we need to follow, isn't there?" you suggested.

The group quickly regrouped and made their way back to the car, the solemnity of the situation hanging in the air as they prepared to tackle the challenge that lay ahead.

~~~

As you all pulled up to a nice looking house, the anticipation in the air was palpable. Stepping out of the vehicle, you gathered on the sidewalk, exchanging wary glances. 

"Be careful, okay?" Allison's voice held a note of caution, her eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of trouble. "We don't know what Peabody's capable of," she added with a touch of concern.

Diego, ever the nonchalant one, interrupted the tension by casually flipping a knife in his hand. "Yeah, he didn't seem dangerous when I first saw him," he remarked, shrugging off any potential threat. "Looked kinda scrawny," he commented, downplaying the potential danger Peabody might pose.

Allison, however, wasn't so easily dismissive. "Yeah, well, so are most serial killers and mass murderers," she pointed out, her gaze shifting towards Five for emphasis. "I mean, look at him," she said, drawing a comparison that left an uncomfortable silence in its wake.

Five, never one to miss a chance for a snarky comeback, replied sarcastically, "Thanks."

"You hear that? Scrawny-" you laugh again as Five playfully shoves you away from him. 

But as your laughter gradually subsides, you can't help but notice the subtle hint of a limp in Five's leg once more.

"Good point," Deigo acknowledged with a nonchalant shrug as we advanced towards the house, our footsteps crunching on the gravel path. 

Absorbed by curiosity, you diverged from the group, your eyes peering into the dim interiors through the dusty windows. 

Noticing your departure, Five followed suit, his arms crossed in a defensive stance as he stepped up beside you.

The silence of the neighborhood enveloped us as we stood there, observing the empty rooms within. "Doesn't look like anyone's home," you remarked, breaking the quietness. The statement hung in the air, echoing the absence of life within the walls. 

Turning to face Five, you awaited his reaction, the tension palpable in the air between you two.

He just shrugs in response to your scrutiny, causing you to narrow your eyes in suspicion. 

"What's the matter with you?" you question, sensing his odd behavior since a recent event. "You've been weird ever since we-" you start to say, your curiosity piqued. 

"Don't, everything is fine." he interrupts sternly, a tinge of unease shadowing his eyes as his complexion grows increasingly pallid by the minute, betraying his attempt at nonchalance. 

"Five, you don't exactly look... good," you observe with growing concern, your worry deepening at the sight of his deteriorating state.

He sends a piercing glare your way, his expression etched with frustration. "No— that's not what I meant. I mean, you look sick or something," you explain hastily, your tone tinged with concern.

In response, he just lets out a weary sigh as Diego makes his way to the door and positions himself beside you, Allison now out of view. 

"Hey, look, I'm gonna burst through—" Diego announces as Five spacial jumps within the confines of the house, leaving you and Diego standing outside. 

You simply shrug, offering a nonchalant response, "Go for it, man." 

"You know what? It would be nice for people just to stick to the plan," he grumbles under his breath, voicing his frustration as you flash a small understanding smile in return.

You watch in stunned silence as Diego takes a few steps back, his intense gaze fixed on the door. And then suddenly, with a fierce determination, he launches himself forward at full speed, crashing into the tough glass barrier with a resounding impact that echoes through the space.

The shattering of the glass follows almost instantaneously, creating a cacophony of sharp fragments that scatter across the floor, a visual testament to the force of the collision. 

As the dust settles, you see Diego on the ground, an expression of pain etched on his face, one hand cradling his side as he lets out a low groan, the sound filled with a mix of frustration and discomfort.

Seizing the moment, you step forward and instinctively reach for the door handle, giving it a gentle push that causes the door to swing open with surprising ease. 

A sense of amusement dances in your eyes as you speak, the words dripping with a teasing tone, "Oh well, would you look at that; it was unlocked all along."

Diego, still recovering from his dramatic entrance, shoots a glare in your direction, his eyes flashing with a mix of annoyance and admiration at your effortless maneuver. His voice carries a hint of begrudging respect as he mutters curses to himself. 

"Subtle"

"Yeah, well, my way works just fine," he confidently asserted as he rose from the ground with a subtle groan of exertion. 

"Spread out and make sure to yell if you, uh... find yourself in any kind of trouble," he added with a hint of concern in his voice, scanning the rooms of the house for any signs of potential danger.

"Ah, inspiring leadership," 

"One of the greats," 

"It's alright, I still love you, man."

You all quickly divided, each searching a different part of the house as instructed. It wasn't long before the silence was pierced by Allison's urgent voice echoing through the halls, beckoning you all to her location.

"Guys, you need to see this!" Her tone carried a hint of genuine concern, making your heart race with anticipation.

With a furrowed brow and a sense of trepidation creeping over you, you hastened your steps to join the rest of the enigmatic Hargreeves siblings gathering near the threshold of the attic. 

As you all climbed up the ladder to the attic, your eyes widened in amazement and curiosity. The darkness lifted to reveal the numerous posters and memorabilia of the umbrella academy lining the walls. 

However, your initial excitement turned to unease as you noticed that everything appeared to be purposefully damaged. 'X' marks had been crudely drawn over the eyes of the figures, creating an eerie and unsettling sight. 

Scattered around were burnt dolls, their once cheerful faces now twisted and charred. 

As you took in the scene, you also noticed the presence of threatening messages scrawled in red paint, adding a sense of foreboding to the already ominous atmosphere. 

The combination of the defaced posters, the creepy burnt dolls, and the menacing messages left a lingering feeling of dread in the air, making you wonder what could have led to such disturbing alterations in the once cherished collection.

As Allison picked up an action figure resembling herself, a sense of unease settled in the attic. "All our faces are burnt off," she commented, her voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and dread. 

Diego, scanning the eerie surroundings, couldn't help but chuckle nervously at the strange sight. "Well, that's not creepy at all," he remarked, attempting to mask his discomfort with humor.

Joining in the exploration, your eyes swept over the room, taking in the unsettling scene. The dim light cast eerie shadows across the walls, adding to the ominous atmosphere. 

Glancing over at Five, who appeared slightly unsteady, a shiver ran down your spine. 

Diego's comment about the owner's "serious issues" echoed in the silence, underscoring the unsettling nature of the discovery. The air felt incredibly heavy.

As the unsettling reality settles in, the atmosphere in the room changes palpably. "This.. is so weird," you murmur, your expression twisted in a mix of confusion and disdain. 

The weight of the situation seems to hit everyone simultaneously, each face reflecting a moment of profound understanding.

"This was never about Vanya.. This was about us."

The realization lingers heavily in the air, casting a shadow over the group dynamics as the true nature of the situation unfolds before you. 

Feeling increasingly uneasy, you instinctively fold your arms across your chest, a subconscious gesture of self-protection as you grapple with the implications of the revelation.

As you stood there, a barely audible gasp reached your ears from behind. Instinctively, you pivoted to discover Five, his complexion even more pale than you remembered, visibly struggling to remain upright.

"Five-" you begin your sentence but are cut short as Five's strength failed him, causing him to slump downwards.

Reacting swiftly, you swiftly closed the distance between you, acting as a support for his head as he descended.

"You... You..." you glare down at the injured boy. "You bitch! I knew something was wrong-!"

Carefully examining him, your hands probed for any signs of injury, and your fingers soon detected a shrapnel wound on his lower abdomen.

As you knelt beside Five, his blood, warm and sticky, tainted your hand crimson as you applied pressure to the wound, desperately trying to stem the flow. 

"Why didn't you tell us?" The question lingered in the tense air, unanswered as Five's pale lips moved soundlessly, lost in his own thoughts. Allison and Diego, expressions wrought with concern, stood by, their gazes fixed on the injured figure before them.

Diego's voice broke through the heavy silence, laced with worry and disbelief. "Jesus, Five" His eyes scanned Five's form, taking in the severity of the situation. 

Five's coughs sent shivers down your spine, a stark reminder of the fragility of life hanging by a thread. "You.. You have to keep going. So... close.."

In a moment of desperation, you shook Five gently, pleading with him to stay conscious. Your hand stung as you resorted to slapping his cheek lightly, the sharp sound echoing in the room.

"Stay with us, Five," you implored, frantically searching for a pulse. The faint beat beneath your trembling fingers gave you a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos.

 "Wake up, Five! Don't you dare fall asleep-" you whispered, your voice raw with emotion, willing him to hold on, to keep fighting against the encroaching darkness.

As you and Diego carefully maneuvered through the eerie silence of the attic, the urgency to get the unconscious boy to safety weighed heavily on your shoulders. 

With each step down the creaky ladder, the gravity of the situation intensified. 

Allison's presence, though silent, spoke volumes as her resolute determination matched Diego's strength in lifting the boy and carrying him out of the attic, their movements synchronized in seamless coordination.

Exiting the house brought a sense of relief, yet the ordeal was far from over. Settling into the car, your attention turned solely to Five, cradling his injured form with hands clammy from his dried blood. 

Your fingers remained on his pulse, a tangible connection to the fragile thread of life that still held on amidst chaos. 

The familiar comfort of the car's interior juxtaposed with the tension within as you persistently called out to Five, the urgency in your voice belying the anxiety that gnawed at your core.

Diego's reassurance through the rearview mirror cut through the palpable tension, his words a lifeline of hope as he promised to deliver Five safely to Grace. 

The road to the academy stretched ahead, each passing mile a reminder of the distance left to traverse before safety was within reach. 

Your silent nod was both a gesture of acknowledgment and a vow to see this through until the end, the unspoken pact shared between you and the siblings to weather whatever trials lay ahead on the path back to the academy.

~~~

"We should have taken him to the hospital," Deigo groans as he carries Five into the academy, his worry evident in the furrow of his brow and the urgency in his steps. 

"A kid with a shrapnel wound might raise some questions," Five retorts, his voice raspy with the strain of consciousness slipping in and out. The gravity of their situation weighs heavily on him, despite his attempts at maintaining a veneer of nonchalance.

"Yeah, well, so does the murder shrine in Harold Jenkins' attic," Diego replies, his words tinged with a mix of resignation and frustration.

"We need to find Grace," you exclaim, a sense of determination propelling you as you hasten around the house in search of the blonde woman. 

When you finally clasp her hand and lead her to Five, a flicker of hope ignites within you amidst the chaos and uncertainty.

She gasps upon seeing Five, her hand instinctively flying to her heart as her eyes widen in concern. "Goodness me, we must go upstairs to the medical room," she declares softly but decisively, her expression a mix of compassion and resolve. 

With a gentle smile, she takes Five from Diego and starts the ascent, her posture steady and her presence a grounding force in the tumultuous scene.

As you stood there watching Allison and Diego following Grace, a deep sense of regret enveloped you. 

You couldn't shake off the feeling that you should have spoken up, that you should have taken charge and addressed the situation before it escalated. 

Perhaps if you had tended to the wound earlier, everything would have turned out differently for him.

The questions raced through your mind with each step you took upstairs. Why had he chosen not to confide in you? Did he doubt your trustworthiness, your ability to handle the truth? Could it be that he harbored reservations about your capabilities, measuring your worth against the ticking clock? Did his silence reflect his lack of faith in your competency to navigate this situation effectively?

Doubts and uncertainties assailed you with every passing moment. The weight of unspoken words and unaddressed concerns pressed down on your shoulders, making each step feel heavier than the last. 

Despite the mounting negativity threatening to overwhelm you, you trudged upstairs, determined to find some answers.

~~~

A considerable amount of time had passed while you sat on the floor, your eyes fixed on the figure of Five sleeping peacefully beside the bed. 

Despite all the challenges he had faced since reuniting with his family and the daunting task of preventing the world's destruction, his face carried a calmness that tugged at your heartstrings.

As the tension of the situation lingered in the room, the need for a moment of respite became evident. Thoughts of a refreshing drink to soothe both your nerves started to occupy your mind.

Resting your head lightly against the bed's edge, you found yourself lost in contemplation as you gazed at Five's peaceful expression. The slight furrow on your brow revealed the undercurrent of impatience that brewed within you. 

All you wished for was a small sign from him, a subtle gesture to reassure you that he would emerge from this ordeal unscathed.

Even though you had only recently become acquainted with him, he had bestowed upon you numerous opportunities to demonstrate your capabilities. As you reflected on these chances, a sense of trust he had in you slowly dawned upon you. 

The realization that he perceived you as reliable and dependable began to settle within you.

It dawned on you that perhaps your relationship with him had evolved beyond mere acquaintanceship and had actually blossomed into a genuine friendship based on mutual respect and trust. 

The bond you shared seemed to have grown stronger as time passed, manifesting in the form of the trust he placed in you.

Taking a moment to process these thoughts, you let out a soft sigh, a mixture of gratitude and realization permeating the air around you. 

The simple act of feeling his hand in yours, now noticeably warmer than before, provided a reassuring sense that he was going to be alright.

Placing emphasis on the weight of unspoken emotions, you uttered softly, "you better be okay," your words dissolving into the air like fragile echoes. 

Then, a surge of unresolved feelings pierced through your facade as you murmured, "I hate you," the bitterness lacing your tone hovered momentarily before dissipating. 

As if in response to your unfiltered sentiment, he whispered, "I hate you too, Sparks," a touch of amusement evident in his voice. 

Transfixed by the blend of pain and familiarity in his gaze, you instinctively moved closer, settling beside him on the edge of the bed. The intertwining of your hands, once a source of connection.

Caught off guard by your shared intimacy, he questioned, "Why are you holding my hand?" A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes, softening the edges of the unspoken turmoil. 

With a nonchalant shrug, you met his gaze directly. "No reason," you replied, your voice betraying a hint of concealed longing beneath the surface. 

As he hummed softly, a hint of sarcasm laced his words. "That's quite bold of you to say, especially while claiming to 'hate me'," he noted, remembering the earlier insult.

Feeling the need to set the record straight, you released his hand momentarily to push a bottle of refreshing water in front of his face, your gesture speaking louder than words. "I don't hate you," you emphasized, hoping to clear the air.

Rather nonchalantly, he took a sip of the water, breaking the tension with a casual confession. "I don't hate you either," he admitted, a touch of honesty coloring his words. 

"I just don't like you," he added jokingly with a nonchalant shrug, a flicker of discomfort crossing his features as he winced from a hint of pain in his side.

Concern crept into your voice as you cautioned him gently, realizing the importance of conserving his energy for the impending challenge ahead. 

"Careful. We.. can still try to stop Peabody but dont strain yourself. You still need to rest for now." you warned, emphasizing the need for caution in navigating the murky waters of the task at hand.

"Says you, but don't forget, you also passed out due to blood loss," he scoffs lightly, a teasing tone in his voice as he gracefully rises from the bed. 

"How's that doing, by the way?" he inquires with genuine concern, his eyes searching your face for reassurance.

You comply with a small smile, rolling up your sleeve to reveal your healing shoulder. 

The once gaping wound now adorned with a scab has shed its stitches, a testament to your body's remarkable resilience. 

"All better now," you affirm, your smile widening in relief.

Acknowledging your progress with a single nod, he straightens his posture, signaling his intent to move. "Good," he murmurs before making his way towards the door, his steps measured and purposeful.

You quickly intercept him, blocking his path with a determined stance. "And just where do you think you're off to?" you question, a mix of curiosity and concern flickering in your gaze.

His scoff is lighthearted, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "To stop the apocalypse, of course," he quips playfully, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, his confidence unwavering in the face of impending chaos.

As you narrowed your eyes at him, hands firmly planted on your hips, a determined expression gracing your features, you knew that under no circumstances should he be allowed to continue skirting the basics of proper self-care. 

"Not until you get some sleep, mister," you firmly reiterated, your tone leaving no room for negotiation.

In response, he defiantly crossed his arms, the challenge clear in his posture as he fired back, "And who's gonna stop me? You?" Despite his bravado, you could see the tiredness etched in the shadows under his eyes, making your insistence all the more crucial.

With a quick retort, you raised the stakes, a hint of mischief in your voice, "I'll zap you." Although he tried to play it cool, a flicker of doubt passed through his eyes.

Seeing his hesitation, you raised an eyebrow, locking eyes with him and giving him a pointed look that spoke volumes. 

It was a non-verbal reminder of the care and concern you held for his well-being, making it clear that your words were not to be taken lightly. 

You observe as Five sighs, echoing in the room before settling back onto the bed, a tangible sign of his weariness. "Only because I'm tired, not because you said so," he groans softly, sinking into the mattress.

Taking in his compliance, you offer a slight smile, satisfied with his choice to heed your advice. As you join him on the bed, your gaze naturally gravitates towards him, capturing his every movement. 

 "I cauterized your 'thingy' by the way" you mention casually, motioning towards the faint outline of bandages peeking from beneath his night shirt.

He acknowledges your words with a nonchalant hum, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. "My 'thingy', huh?"

You chuckle lightly at his jest, clarifying, "Your shrapnel wound. which you got at the commission that you decided not to tell anyone about" The mention of the covert operation that led to his injury doesn't seem to faze you as you casually brush it off. 

"No need to make a fuss about it," you express, shrugging off the potential severity of the situation.

With a weary expression, five runs a hand down his face, the fatigue evident in his movements. "I didn't want to slow us down," he murmurs softly.

Reassuringly, you respond, "We still have a few days and we know what causes the apocolypse, we'll get there." Offering him a confident nod.

Observing his slight relaxation, you give a nod in return as he shifts over on the bed.

Considering your well-being, Five gestures towards the vacant spot beside him. "Well... you probably need some rest too," he suggests, patting the inviting space.

Feeling uncertain, you pause before complying with his suggestion. "Isn't this a little... strange?" you inquire, unsure of the situation.

As you settle in, the calm atmosphere washes over you, bringing a sense of closeness and understanding between you and five in this moment of respite.

He shrugs tiredly before closing his eyes, the weight of exhaustion evident in every line etched on his face. 

"You're hot, so that makes up for it," he murmurs, his voice hoarse with weariness.

You flinch at the sudden comment, caught off guard by the unexpected compliment, and swiftly turn to face him. 

"Excuse me-?" Your tone is a mix of confusion and annoyance, seeking clarification for his bold statement.

However, before you can press further, your gaze meets his peacefully closed eyes, and the steady rise and fall of his chest indicate that he has already succumbed to sleep. 

"Sneaky bastard," you mumble under your breath, a hint of amusement in your voice despite the surprise he had thrown your way.

As the tension dissipates, you allow yourself to relax, the worry and tension of the past few days starting to fade away. Finding a sense of comfort in his presence, you eventually drift off to sleep next to him, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. 

The rhythmic sound of his breathing lulls you into a much-needed rest, the warmth of his proximity a soothing balm for the chaos of recent events.

~~~

A/N - woah character development :0

word count - 4587

[80pairsofcrocs]

spacial sparks || 11

Chapter warnings - mention of drinking and drugs, guns, grenade explosions, worry of past wounds, really bad fight(?) scenes, let me know if i missed anything.

~~~

Second pov

~~~

Feeling a mixture of relief and unease, you trusted Five's assurance that everything would eventually fall into place amidst the chaos surrounding you. 

Thus, seeking solace in the quiet seclusion of the tube room, you found comfort in the repetitive fold of origami cranes while Five engaged in a secretive lunch meeting with The Handler. 

The fluorescent light hummed overhead, casting a soft glow on the empty desk before you, providing a serene backdrop against the tumultuous thoughts swirling in your mind. 

Memories of your daring escape from the clutches of the commission flooded back, the adrenaline-fueled freedom now tinged with a newfound apprehension as you realized the sinister cunning behind their calculated release of you, planting seeds of false security that only now sprouted into a garden of uncertainty within your psyche. 

The subtle rustle of paper folding echoed in the room, a rhythmic accompaniment to the whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm you, as each delicate crane crafted with meticulous care symbolized both a fragile hope for the future and a reminder of the deceptive veneer that cloaked your past experiences. 

Upon recognizing the capabilities of The Handler, Five had a clear understanding of the potential outcomes. This awareness prompted him to promptly offer reassurance that all would be well. 

Though his trust in you ran deeper than most outside his family, he remained guarded, withholding such sentiments from being expressed directly to you or anyone else. 

Despite his reserved demeanor, his affection for you was evident, even though by his standards, your contributions to him were negligible. 

This genuine affection for you immediately alerted him when he sensed a shift in your behavior.

What prompted this awareness was your palpable fear, a feeling he easily recognized. While his knowledge of your past was limited, he harbored an intuition that it held dark experiences. 

It appeared that you had endured hardships from a young age, seeking solace in a life marred by substance abuse and self-effacing humor. 

This coping mechanism seemed to serve as a distraction from the troubles that plagued you, portraying a picture of a person who had grappled with adversity throughout their life.

If anything, he pitied you, not just out of sheer empathy, but because he truly understood the depth of your emotions. 

It wasn't the kind of pity born out of disdain, no, it was a profound sorrow that resonated in his own heart. 

The sinking feeling that consumed you, he couldn't fathom anyone enduring that, not even his most despised adversary.

The thought of a young girl being coerced into becoming a time-traveling assassin, that notion twisted his insides in the most sickening manner possible. 

He had always known the commission to be corrupt, but to witness an innocent child being stripped of her innocence and any chance at a normal life, it struck a nerve deep within him. Such a cruel fate forced upon her, to live a life devoid of any other purpose, left him seething with a mixture of rage and helplessness. 

The injustice of it all weighed heavily on his conscience, prompting him to question the moral fabric of those who could perpetrate such atrocities without a flicker of remorse.

With a start, you pause in the delicate folding of your paper crane, alert to the sudden hush that falls over the room. 

The unfamiliar voices send a chill down your spine, their urgent whispers pulling your attention away from your peaceful task. 

"Gloria, the Handler knows that Five is up to something," one voice declares, filled with a sense of urgency that makes you tense and hide under the desk. 

Hurried footsteps approach, triggering a rush of adrenaline as you strain to catch every hushed word. 

"Get this to Hazel and Cha-Cha immediately," the directive sends a shiver through you, wondering about the dangerous implications. 

A hesitant voice attempts to interject, only to be overridden with a sharp command for immediate action. 

Your heart quickens in sync with the tension in the air as you cautiously peek out, catching a glimpse of a frantic exchange that ends in a resounding 'smack.' The sound reverberates in the silence.

And there he was, standing tall in all his glory, Five Hargreeves embodied before your eyes, his presence commanding the room as he dragged the unconscious body of a poor woman behind a desk. 

"..Five?" you stand, your voice tinged with surprise.

He startles briefly, his intense gaze meeting yours as he recognizes you. "Thank God you're here, it's the final task on my list," he breathes out with a mixture of relief and urgency.

You swiftly make your way around the desk, closing the distance between you two. "Five, she knows - she was going to contact Hazel and Cha-Cha," you inform him, the gravity of the situation evident in your tone.

His brow furrows, his eyes flickering across the array of tubes within the room. "You think I'm unaware of that? Good Lord, that woman is absolutely unhinged," he remarks with a mixture of disdain and weariness apparent in his voice as he vents his frustration.

As five fumbles around before taking a tube, you see him engrossed in reading the contents inside. Curious, you creep up behind him to catch a glimpse as well, sharing in the discovery.

"Protect Harold Jenkins...?" you instinctively vocalize, questioning the cryptic message. 

Turning towards you, a glimmer of expectation shines in Five's eyes as he asks, "You wouldn't happen to know who that is, would you?" His voice echoing a mix of anticipation and uncertainty, hoping for a shred of clarity. 

Disappointment flickers across his features as your head gently shakes in response. "Damnit..." he mutters under his breath, frustration tainting the air as the mystery deepens, leaving more questions than answers in its wake.

"You know, this isn't how we do things here," the Handler's stern voice startles you, causing you to swiftly turn around to face her. 

"And you're supposed to be on a mission, dearie," she directs towards you with a hint of disappointment evident in her tone.

Five lets out a weary sigh, positioning himself slightly in front of you as a protective gesture.

"Where's Gloria?" The Handler questions, her tone demanding an answer.

Five simply shrugs nonchalantly, replying, "Don't know. Couldn't find her anywhere," which only serves to further highlight the chaos of the situation.

Suddenly, Gloria emits a soft groan as she slowly begins to stir from her slumber hidden behind the cluttered desk, her movements indicating her confused state of awakening.

As you stand in the midst of this unexpected commotion, the urgency of the mission at hand becomes even more apparent, with the absence of Gloria casting a shadow of doubt over the success of the operation. 

The Handler's gaze shifts from you to Gloria, her expression a mix of concern and frustration as the gravity of the situation sets in.

The Handler let out a heavy sigh, her disapproval evident in the tremor of her voice. "You're a great disappointment to me," she lamented, her gaze fixed on you accusingly. With every step she took closer, you instinctively stepped back, the tension between you palpable. 

"You can't change what's to come, children," she pronounced sternly, the weight of her words hanging heavily in the air.

Drawing nearer once more, her tone shifted, now dripping with aggression as she confronted you with her disbelief. "I truly find it so odd that you can't shed this fantasy," her voice slicing through the silence like a sharp blade. 

"You're a first-rate pragmatist," she added, a hint of mockery seeping into her false chuckle. 

"You belong here with us, you both do," she asserted confidently, the conviction in her words leaving no room for argument.

Her presence loomed over you like a dark cloud, casting a shadow of doubt and unease. 

"I don't belong anywhere, thanks to you," Five seethed, his eyes ablaze with a mix of hurt and fury as he took five steps closer to The Handler. 

The overwhelming aura of rage emanating from him was palpable, a dark energy that seemed to swallow the room whole. "You made me a killer-

"You were always a killer," The Handler retorted sharply, her voice laced with a cold certainty that sent shivers down the spine. "I just pointed you in the right direction"

Her piercing gaze then shifted to you, and you found yourself trembling under her firm scrutiny. "My, my, I am profoundly disappointed in you, y/n," she chided, the disappointment in her tone cutting through the tension like a knife. "Now, imagine what your father would say if he witnessed the path you have chosen."

"Leave her out of this, this is between you and me" Five interjected, positioning himself protectively in front of you, a shield against The Handler's calculated words and manipulative tactics. 

The Handler's tension-filled sigh echoed through the room, a visible sign of her escalating desperation. 

With practiced efficiency, she swiftly drew her handgun from the holster secured to her thigh, the metallic glint of the weapon reflecting in the dim light as she leveled it towards you, her expression cold and determined.

The deafening sound of the gun going off reverberated in the enclosed space, the sharp crack of gunfire jolting the atmosphere. 

In a split-second reaction, Five sprang into action, his quick reflexes propelling him to grab you and execute a spatial jump, transporting both of you to safety with remarkable precision. 

The sudden displacement caused disorientation, and as you landed amidst a pile of discarded tubes, the clatter of the impact echoed loudly in the room.

As the blaring sirens pierced the air, signaling the breach of security, urgency hung heavy in the atmosphere. 

Five, with a firm grip on your hand, pulled you up swiftly, his urgency palpable as he urged you to move, his voice urgent with the need for immediate escape. 

"Come on - we have to go!" his words were laced with a sense of determination, a call to action in the face of imminent danger.

Together, the rush of adrenaline fueling your movements, you and Five dashed through the maze of corridors, the urgent need to evade capture spurring you onwards. 

The urgency in his stride matched by the determination etched across your features.

As you and Five dart across the room, dodging The Handler's relentless gunfire, the both of you glance back briefly, only to see her advancing with unwavering determination. 

With a swift motion, Five kicks a nearby cart in her direction, causing a momentary distraction before propelling the both of you further ahead. Amidst the chaos, The Handler's voice echoes,

"Now where are you two off to?" she calls out, a blend of amusement and challenge in her tone. "We're just getting started!"

Responding to her taunt, Five swiftly maneuvers you both into The Handler's office, a sanctuary amidst what was unfolding outside. 

However, the abrupt movement catches you off guard, and as the adrenaline rush subsides, you find yourself tumbling towards The Handler's imposing desk. 

In a hasty attempt to regain balance, your knee collides with the unforgiving leg of the desk, sending a sharp jolt of pain through your body.

"Ow- fu-" you manage to utter as the discomfort intensifies, momentarily overpowering your composure. 

Grimacing, you instinctively reach out to grasp your throbbing knee, the sting of the impact causing you to grit your teeth in discomfort.

Five turned towards you, letting out a heavy sigh as he offered reassurance, "You'll be fine." His voice clear as he reached for the grenades stored within the glass case of the office.

You couldn't help but smile as you approached him, joking lightly, "So you're finally taking my advice?" You walked over to Five after stretching out your leg.

With an eye roll, Five responded, "Don't let it get to your head," before showing genuine concern, "But are you okay though?" He motioned towards your knee with a furrowed brow.

You nodded in affirmation, steeling yourself for what lay ahead, "Let's get this over with then." Extending your hand to Five, a silent agreement passed between you both.

Returning the nod, Five grasped your hand firmly as he initiated the spacial jump, transporting the pair of you elsewhere.

The Handler must have heard the 'whoosh' of you and Five landing a distance behind her. As she slowly turns around, her intense glare fixates on both of you, the weight of disappointment evident in her piercing stare.

"Is this how you want the last line of your report to read?" Her eye twitches in irritation, a subtle reflection of the frustration simmering beneath the surface of her composed demeanor.

In response, a sense of defiance flickers across Five's tense expression as he nonchalantly shrugs, his body poised for any potential threat looming from the woman holding a gun. "When I'm done, I'm done, I guess," he remarks, a hint of resignation mingling with his defiance.

However, the Handler, with a calculated smile that masks her true intentions, counters his stance with manipulative precision. "You can't keep this up, Five," she purrs, her voice laced with honeyed persuasion. 

"We both know that even you have a limit. I saved you from a lifetime of solitude," she continues, a sharp edge of entitlement creeping into her words. 

With a single, mocking laugh, she adds, "You owe me," the weight of her past actions hanging heavily in the charged silence that envelops the tense standoff between them.

She spots you behind Number Five, her voice laced with a cold warning. "Don't you dare move, girl. It appears you've forgotten your rightful place here," she taunts, her tone dripping with disdain. 

"Unlike Number Five, you have no one else to turn to - you stand utterly and completely alone," she sneers, a visible vein pulsating with anger on her neck.

A dark chuckle escapes her lips once more. "Return home, y/n, and perhaps the repercussions of your actions won't be too severe," she threatens, the gun in her hand ready to deliver punishment, yet no bullet emerges.

As the smirk vanishes from The Handler's face, it reappears on Five's countenance, a subtle shift of power. "A debt is owed," he declares, swiftly teleporting behind the enraged woman. "But not to you."

After Five skillfully pulls the pin from the grenade he had acquired, he swiftly hurls it in The Handler's direction, causing her to freeze in shock. 

With quick reflexes, Five teleports back to your side, ensuring your safety before whisking you both away from the explosive blast radius to a secure spot behind a nearby wall. 

As you both huddle for cover, the grenade detonates, creating chaos and wreaking havoc within the room, injuring The Handler and causing destruction all around.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, Five teleports once more, transporting you both seamlessly to a new location – the room containing the coveted briefcases. 

As you stand amongst the valuable cases, the gravity of the situation sinks in, knowing that your actions have set off a chain of events that could alter the course of the mission outcome. 

The tension in the air is palpable as you and Five exchange a knowing glance, the weight of the moment heavy on your shoulders.

Five swiftly grabbed the sleek, black briefcase beside him, deftly manipulating its dials to pinpoint a specific time and location. 

With a nod towards you, he dashed forward, prompting you to trail closely in his wake. Amid the noise of another explosion echoing through the air, a man's frantic shouts mingled with the tumultuous scene.

Reacting instinctively, Five threw the briefcase in front of both of you, using it as a protective shield against the swirling debris. 

In one seamless motion, he unlocked the mechanism, his hand darting out to grasp yours firmly, a silent reassurance amidst the turmoil. As the device whirred to life, a stunning blue light enveloped you both, blurring the surroundings until they faded into nothingness.

The disorienting rush of being transported through time and space accompanied the brilliant flash, casting a surreal glow over both of you.

You yelp in surprise as the weight of five comes crashing down upon you, the sudden impact causing you to instinctively push him off, sending him tumbling to the floor beside you.

Moroever, you clench your jaw in discomfort, your still injured arm throbbing with pain as you try to gather your bearings. 

"Shit- you good?" Five's voice breaks through the tension, his concern evident as he sits up next to you. As you both take a moment to assess the situation, Klaus' voice suddenly pierces the previous silence, his question hanging in the air. "Am I still high, or do you guys see them too?"

With a mixture of confusion and alarm, you sit up, the sleeve of your long-sleeved shirt riding up as you inspect your wounded arm. A sigh of relief escapes you as you realize that your stitches remain intact, the sight bringing a sense of reassurance amidst the chaos unfolding around you.

After receiving five nods in approval of your wounds, indicating that you were okay, before helping you stand up, everyone was bombarded with questions. 

Allison was quick to inquire, "Five, are both of you alright?" 

Meanwhile, Luther joined in, asking, "Where have you both been this whole time?" The room was filled with tension.

"Who did this to you guys-?"

Five interrupts the conversation abruptly, "Irrelevant", and you can't help but notice a slight limp in his step as he reaches for the coffee cup that Allison was holding. 

Your concern is evident as you observe him closely, wondering if he had been injured in some way. Your brows furrow, indicating your silent inquiry into his well-being.

Unlike his usual composed self, Five seems a bit off as he hastily gulps down the coffee before casually tossing the cup aside, his actions betraying a sense of urgency. 

Clearing his throat, he announces, "So, the apocalypse is in three days." He starts. "The only chance we have to save our world is, well, us."

"The Umbrella Academy," Luther said firmly, to which the other siblings all nodded in agreement, emphasizing the sense of unity among them.

"Yeah, but with me, obviously." Five nonchalantly remarked, before turning towards you with a sly grin, clearly hinting at some inside joke. "and y/n, of course," he added playfully, including you in the banter.

"So if y'all don't get your sideshow acts together and get over yourselves, we're screwed. Who cares if Dad messed us up? Are we gonna let that define us?" Five turned serious and paused for a moment, letting his words sink in, before continuing with determination. 

"No. And to give us a fighting chance to see next week, I've come back with a lead." With a final nod, Five concluded his impassioned speech, his eyes reflecting a mix of resolve and hope.

With a sense of anticipation, Five reached into his pocket and extracted the piece of paper he had managed to procure from the tube room, holding it up for the rest of the group to see.

"I know who's responsible for the apocalypse," he tells his siblings, his voice filled with a profound sense of determination as you all nod along solemnly. 

"This is who we have to stop," he adds, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air, urging you all to take action.

Allison sounds confused as she crosses her arms, her brow furrowed in disbelief. "Harold Jenkins?" she questions, trying to make sense of the revelation that has been revealed.

Diego, always one to get straight to the point, furrows his brows in confusion as he questions, "Who the hell is Harold Jenkins?" His disbelief mirrored in the way he looks to you for answers, and you simply offer a nonchalant shrug, as puzzled as the rest.

"I don't know... yet," Five said as he rubbed the back of his neck pensively, his gaze sweeping the room before settling back on his siblings. 

"But I do know that he's responsible for the apocalypse," he affirmed, a determined nod confirming his conviction. "So we have to find him. And we have to do it now."

Luther's expression mirrored his incredulity as he questioned, "How is he connected to what's gonna happen?"

"I don't know." Five replied with a tinge of frustration evident in his voice.

Diego's sarcasm seeped through his words as he prodded, "Wait, so you just know his name? That's it?"

"That's enough," Five retorts firmly, the frustration evident in his tone, causing Diego to scoff in response with a look of skepticism.

"There's probably dozens of Jenkinses, asshole," Diego adds, his irritation growing as he scans the surroundings, realizing the magnitude of the task ahead. He furrows his brow, trying to come up with a strategy to tackle the challenge.

As the weight of the situation sinks in, Five lets out a deep groan, a mixture of annoyance and resignation clouding his features. The urgency in his voice rises as impatience takes hold. "Well, we just better start looking, then," he mutters half to himself.

Allison, ever the curious one, couldn't help but voice her doubts. "I'm sorry. Am I the only one that's skeptical here? I mean, how exactly do you know all of this about what's his name?" She inquired, her tone laced with uncertainty.

"Harold Jenkins. You know those lunatics in masks who attacked the house?"

"Oh, yeah, I think I remember those guys." Klaus confirmed with a hint of disbelief, his sarcasm evident.

"Yeah, the ones that attacked us while you two were out getting drunk," Diego gives you a look, disappointed in you. In response, you nonchalantly roll your eyes, attempting to hide your guilty conscience, while Five lets out a deep sigh. 

"Yeah, Them," he confirms, locking eyes with you briefly before elaborating. "They were sent by the Temps Commission to stop me from coming back and preventing the end of life on Earth." Five explains.

"The Temps what?"

"My former employer," Five begins, his tone tinged with a mix of resignation and defiance. "They monitor all of time and space to make sure that whatever is supposed to happen... happens." he adds, his discomfort evident as he shifts his weight, moving from one leg to the other.

"They believe the apocalypse is coming in three days," he explains to the group gathered anxiously in the dimly lit room, the tension palpable as they mulled over the grave situation at hand. 

"So we went to Commission headquarters and intercepted a message that was meant for said lunatics." his voice filled with a mixture of urgency and determination.

You spoke up, your voice cutting through the charged atmosphere, "'Protect Harold Jenkins.'" The weight of those words hung heavy in the air, prompting a collective exchange of concerned glances among the group. 

Five, the ever-vigilant member of the team, nodded in agreement. "Right, so he must be responsible for the impending apocalypse," he concluded with a sense of grim realization, the gravity of the situation sinking into the siblings brains.

"What do you mean, protect time and space?"

"Where is this Hazel, Five?"  "My skin is on fire." 

Allison, with a puzzled expression, directed her gaze at you and Five, an air of suspicion coloring her features as she posed a question, her voice laced with incredulity, "Do you have any idea how insane this sounds?"

Not one to pass up on an opportunity to interject, Five, his tone laced with sarcasm, retorted, "You know what else is insane? I look like a 16 year-old boy! Klaus talks to the dead, y/n is a living storm cloud, and Luther thinks he's fooling everybody with that overcoat." punctuating his exasperation with a theatrical gesture of throwing his hands up in the air, "Everything about us is insane- It always has been." 

A brief, contemplative silence enveloped the group, only to be broken by the always-unpredictable Klaus, who chose that moment to chime in, "He's got a point there." subtly acknowledging the truth within Five's outburst.

"But the last time we tried to stop it, we all died," Allison started, her voice tinged with a hint of desperation as she raised a valid point. 

"Why is this time any different? Why should I stay and risk my life when I could go home to my daughter?" Her eyes were filled with a mix of fear and longing, reflecting the inner turmoil she was experiencing.

Five, with a sense of determination in his tone, reassured her, "Because this time, I'm here." His words carried a weight of responsibility as he continued, "We have the name of the man responsible- Guys, we actually have the chance of saving the lives of billions of people." 

The room fell silent as the weight of their mission settled upon them. Each member of the team knew the risks involved, the sacrifices that might be required.

Five turned to Allison, his gaze thoughtful and tender as he spoke, "Including Claire," he said softly, a hint of longing in his voice.

Allison's eyes met his, a flicker of surprise mingling with something softer, more akin to understanding. She studied him for a moment before responding, her voice gentle, "You know her name?"

A wistful smile tugged at the corners of Five's lips, his eyes reflecting a mix of hope and uncertainty. "I do," he confirmed, his tone laced with a touch of quiet determination, "and I'd like to live long enough to meet her."

Allison's expression softened, a subtle warmth enveloping her features as she regarded Five with newfound curiosity and empathy.

Allison's expression hardens as she narrows her eyes in unwavering determination, a steely resolve evident in her gaze. "All right," she states firmly, her voice laced with resolve. "Let's get this bastard," she declares, her tone leaving no room for doubt.

Diego, catching Allison's fiery determination, nods in agreement. "You had me at Gerald Jenkins," he says, adding his support to the cause.

With a light chuckle, you kindly correct Diego's slip-up. "It's Harold Jenkins," you interject, ensuring the details are accurate.

Diego brushes off the correction with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Whatever," he replies with a resigned shake of his head. "I've already lost two people this week," he confides, a hint of grief edging into his voice. "I'm not losing anyone else," he says firmly, his determination matching Allison's.

"And Luther?" Five stood with his hands on his hips, a gesture that highlighted his concern as he turned towards his tallest brother, seeking assurance in his stormy demeanor. 

Luther, with a heavy heart, let out a weary sigh. "Yeah, you go," he answered softly, his tone betraying a tinge of resignation. "I'm gonna stay and go through Dad's files," he added, a determined glint in his eyes as he tucked his hands into his pockets.

"I still think this has something to do with why he sent me to the Moon," Luther finally confessed.

"You're still on that?" you interjected, your tone a blend of exasperation and concern.

Diego reacted with disbelief, his tone tinged with irritation. "Seriously? Now you wanna make the end of the world about you and Dad?" he scoffed, clearly frustrated by Luther's decision and the focus on their family issues amidst the impending chaos.

Luther's response was stern as he maintained eye contact. "'Watch for threats,' That's what he told me," he emphasized, a hint of urgency in his voice. 

"You think that's a coincidence? This all has to be connected somehow," he pondered, piecing together the cryptic warning he had received.

Allison offered a voice of reason in the heated moment, advocating for unity. "No, we should all stick together," she pointed out, recognizing the importance of solidarity in the face of impending danger.

Five, feeling the weight of the impending crisis, cut through the escalating tension with a sense of urgency. "We don't have time for this!" he exclaimed, reminding the group to prioritize the looming threat over personal disputes.

As Diego nodded to himself and holstered a few knives, determination etched into his features, he confidently declared, "I know exactly where we can find this asshole. Klaus, you're with me."

However, Klaus waved him off with a weak grin. "Yeah, I... I'm good," he chuckled nervously, his eyes betraying a hidden distress. "I think I'll pass this time, feeling a little under the weather, you know..." 

With those words, he abruptly turned and shuffled out of the room, a noticeable limp adding to your concern, prompting a worried frown to crease your brow as you watched him go.

You find yourself releasing a heavy sigh, the weight of the mission lingering in your mind as you make your way to the kitchen, the sound of your footsteps muffled against the floor. 

Your fingers fumble with the freezer door, the cool air rushing out as you search for something to quench your thirst and provide a brief moment of respite.

As you dig through the layers of frozen food, you sense Five's presence behind you, his expression puzzled and impatient. 

"What are you doing?" he questions, his tone a mix of confusion and urgency. "We need to leave."

Your gaze shifts to meet his, a tired smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Just getting a drink before I change out of.. this," you explain, gesturing down at the sleek stealth suit that still clings to your form, a reminder of the dangers you faced just minutes ago.

Five's impatience grows, his hand moving to shut the freezer door with a definitive click. "You don't need a drink right now," he asserts, the worry evident in his voice. "Let's go."

As you let out a frustrated sigh, rather reluctantly, you find yourself drawn back to the inviting chill of the freezer, a futile attempt that only leads to the door being ungraciously shut in your face once more.

Feeling a comforting touch on your arm, which pulls you gently towards Klaus' room, you glance over to see Five's reassuring presence guiding you.

"You're okay, let's get you changed. I'll wait outside," he assures, closing the door behind you and granting you privacy within the sanctum of Klaus' room.

Alone in the space, you take a moment to collect yourself, shedding the day's weariness along with your clothes as you slip into something more relaxing, the fabric against your skin a soothing reminder of the peace you so desperately seek.

Emerging from the room, refreshed and attired in a more comfortable ensemble, you step out into the hallway, greeted by the familiar sight of Five standing there, his expression a mix of patience and concern.

"Just let me have a tiny sip," you pleaded with a hint of desperation in your voice, but Five remained resolute in his refusal. 

With a dismissive scoff, he steered you firmly back towards the exit of the academy, his stern expression clearly conveying his concern for your well-being. 

"No, you don't need it. It just makes you sick," he reiterated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Feeling the need to justify your desire for that small sip, you attempted to explain your reasons to Five, but your words were instantly silenced by the unwavering look he shot your way.

Realizing that there was no point in further discussion, you let out a defeated sigh. "Fine, I guess I can wait," you conceded, falling into step beside Five as both of you made your way towards the academy's doors.

As you both advanced towards your objective, the determination in Five's voice was unmistakable. "Good. Let's get this son of a bitch," he declared with a sense of purpose, his focus unwavering as you prepared to face whatever awaited beyond the doors of the academy.

~~~

A/N - i improv a lot of this to fit the story btw, its called fan FICTION for a reason :)

word count - 5268

[80pairsofcrocs]

spacial sparks || 10

Chapter warnings - guilt, betrayal lmao, mention of drugs and drinking, threats, a little violence, mention of explosives, man in the womens bathroom, rugae, let me know if i missed anything.

~~~

Second pov

~~~

The way Five had looked at you when The Handler called you 'Ms. Carmichael' sickened you deeply and left a heavy weight on your chest. 

It wasn't just a passing glance; it was a look filled with emotions that stirred a whirlwind of conflicting feelings within you. 

The mix of disgust and betrayal that lingered in his gaze cut through you like a knife, intensifying the turmoil that already brewed inside.

You despised the situation you found yourself in, feeling trapped in a cycle of shadows and deception that seemed impossible to break free from. 

It was like being thrust back to the starting point, reliving the haunting memories of your past that shaped you into the lethal force you had become. 

The 'home' that was meant to provide safety and comfort had instead molded you into a weapon, honing your skills for a dark purpose you couldn't escape.

Now, as you grappled with the potential loss of your only ally in this sinister world, the fear of abandonment gnawed at your senses. 

The bond you shared with your new friend hung by a fragile thread, threatened by the newfound revelation that could shatter the trust between you.

Keeping the truth hidden from him had been a choice made out of fear and self-preservation, shielding the fragile belief you held onto about A.J.'s role in your life.

In truth, A.J.'s actions stemmed from a twisted sense of responsibility and a clouded judgment, influenced by the manipulative strings of The Handler's control. 

Although he had provided a semblance of protection, the scars of his training methods ran deep, marking your childhood with horrors that still haunted your dreams. Despite the flaws and the shadows that tainted his guidance, A.J. stood as the lone figure of familial connection within the commission's cold walls.

The absence of knowledge about your biological roots had always been a distant echo in the background, overshadowed by the bond you shared with A.J. 

The question of ancestral ties seemed inconsequential when compared to the bond forged through shared struggles and a bond that transcended bloodlines.

The atmosphere was tense as The Handler glided ahead, guiding you and Five along the winding hallways. Your eyes fixated on the tiled floor, each step heavier than the last, a silent melody of fear echoing within you.

Breaking the silence, The Handler's voice pierced through the air, veiled in a superficial smile that failed to disguise the underlying malevolence. 

"So, y/n," she began, her words tinged with a deceptive sweetness, "How have you been since you decided to take a vacation?" Her inquiry seemed innocent, but you sensed the hidden agenda lurking beneath the surface.

Refusing to betray your inner turmoil, you maintained a steadfast silence, aware that any hint of vulnerability could be exploited. 

Your silence spoke volumes, a shield against the prying eyes that sought to unravel your defenses.

As you walked alongside Five, you could feel the weight of his gaze upon you, a mix of confusion and apprehension clouding his expression. 

The familiarity that once existed between you both seemed to have evaporated, leaving behind a void of uncertainty that hung heavily in the air.

Five's attempt to decipher your thoughts only underscored the disconnect that now separated you, a stark reminder of the fractures that had emerged within your shared facade of family.

The Handler, with a knowing smirk on her face, came to a halt right in front of an office door, which she pointed at. "Your uniform awaits you in there, dear," she stated before casting a mocking tilt of the head in your direction. 

Then, with a sly grin, she added, "And after that, do join us in the case managers' room, won't you?"

As you hesitated, your hand hovering over the doorknob, Five intervened, shooting a fierce glare at The Handler, who seemed unfazed by his gaze. 

"I'd rather keep her in my sight"

Responding with a condescending chuckle, she gently shook her head and assured, "Number Five, there is no need for concern."

In a display that felt almost possessive, The Handler placed her hands on your shoulders and spoke with an air of certainty, "Rest assured, all her secrets – both revealed and yet to be unearthed – are safe with me. I can provide you with any information you might require about this one."

Five softens his gaze on you, a glint of understanding in his eyes as he speaks, "That won't be necessary," his voice steady and reassuring, as if he knows what is best for the situation. 

Meeting your gaze directly, he emphasizes the urgency of the matter, questioning rhetorically, "Time is of the essence, yes?" Both him and The Handler pivot and make their way towards the case managers room on the second floor, their purpose clear in their determined strides.

Reluctantly, you let out a deep sigh, a mixture of resignation and inner turmoil evident in your demeanor, as you step into the room, the heavy door closing behind you with a dull thud that echoes in the silence. 

Your eyes fall upon the familiar sight of your old attire, a worn suit that had seen better days, the long-sleeved shirt hugging your frame snugly, the loose pants and chunky belt and holsters completing the ensemble. 

The old boots, a testament to past deeds, bear the remnants of dried blood stains, a haunting reminder of the darker chapters of your past that you are now trying to distance yourself from.

As you stand there, surrounded by these physical relics of your former self, a shiver runs down your spine, the chilling realization sinking in that you can never fully escape the shadows of your past, no matter how hard you try to move forward.

~~~

As you search for The Handler and Five, your eyes catch sight of a woman being warmly greeted by him. "Ah, y/n dear, I am thrilled that you have found us," she expresses with a wide smile. Her next words hint at the weight of important matters awaiting discussion. 

"We have much to discuss, but for now, I must admit - I have missed seeing you in that suit," she shares while tenderly placing a hand over her heart.

Meanwhile, Five remains silent, his gaze fixated on you as you stand adorned in your new attire. The discomfort begins to settle in as you realize that the outfit no longer resonates with the person you have evolved into. 

The sensation is more than just a clash of styles; it symbolizes a desire to break free from a past stained with the shadows of being a killer. 

Yet, the fates appear to test you once again, revealing that luck might not be aligning with your aspirations as you had hoped.

"Anywho, I'm sure you can finish up the introductions for Number Five?" she turns to you expectantly, her eyes gleaming with anticipation as she awaits your response, a subtle hint of mischief dancing in her gaze.

You shakily nod, too afraid to speak against her, the weight of her authority pressing down on you like an unspoken command that you dare not defy, your nerves tingling with apprehension at the thought of making a misstep.

She smiles smugly, turning on her heel and leaving the room, leaving a tense silence behind, the air heavy with unspoken tension and the lingering echo of her presence that seems to linger in the now empty space, a palpable reminder of her commanding presence.

You stay frozen, staring ahead and refusing eye contact with five, who sighs tiredly, his patience wearing thin as he observes your silent unease, a weary understanding in his eyes that speaks volumes of the weight he too carries in this high-stakes environment.

"Do you want to explain, or do you want The Handler to tell me?" He says blankly, almost as if he's interrogating you, his tone cutting through the silence like a blade, a stark reminder of the consequences that hang in the balance of your next words.

A challenge laid before you to either uphold the truth or face the repercussions of deceit in this intricate dance of manipulation and loyalty amidst the clandestine world of secrets and shadows.

You finally look up at him, your arms reflexively crossing around yourself as you steel yourself for what you know will be a difficult conversation. 

"..Please just hear me out.. after you- you can yell at me, you can tell me how I betrayed your trust, and- and that I'm a bad person, okay?" Your words flow out rapidly, fueled by a mix of guilt and a desperate need for understanding.

"Just- just let me try to tell you how sorry I am for not telling you that A.J. is my father- that I lied-" you continue, the weight of your confession heavy on your shoulders. 

But before you can finish, Five lifts a hand up, halting your speech abruptly.

The gesture silences you, leaving the air heavy with unspoken words and unshed tears. The brief pause stretches out, allowing the tension in the room to build as your mind races with thoughts of regret and fear.

As Five finally breaks the silence, his gaze holding a mix of disappointment and hurt, you feel a lump form in your throat.

"I just want the truth," he starts, his stare softening as the words linger in the air like a delicate confession. "The whole truth. You're... not a bad person. Not really," he echoes with a sincerity that cuts through the tension like a warm embrace.

You find yourself locked in his gaze, a mixture of surprise and vulnerability cascading within you at his unexpected kindness, your uncertain emotions flickering in the shadows of his gentle words.

"... We aren't blood. I was adopted," you admit quietly, the weight of this revelation hanging heavy in the space between you, a shared secret now laid bare. 

Five nods once in understanding, his expression a mix of contemplation and empathy.

"I figured," he scoffs lightly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, the tension in the room dissipating with his casual understanding. 

"You're not a fish," he teases, a hint of playfulness in his tone as he gently breaks the somber atmosphere with a touch of humor.

You also hide a small smile as you engage with him.

"I really am trying to help," you reassure him with a gentle nod, your eyes reflecting sincerity and understanding.

Five studies you once more, carefully taking note of his gentle expression and the way he looks at you. 

"I know," he acknowledges, his voice carrying a touch of appreciation for your efforts as he assesses your appearance. 

"I liked your other clothes better," he points out with a kind yet honest tone, prompting you to glance down at yourself, considering his observation.

"Yeah... me too," you murmur softly, a small smile playing on your lips as you reflect on his comment and the simplicity of sharing a moment of candid self-awareness. 

You appreciate the exchange, finding comfort in the honest exchange of opinions and the genuine connection you have formed with him.

Even though he is kind of a jerk.

~~~

After introducing Five to a few more people, you parted ways, feeling a sense of relief wash over you momentarily. While you enjoyed the brief interactions, the imminent private conversation with The Handler loomed large in your mind, instilling a sense of apprehension within you. 

As you found yourself seated in The Handler's office, you couldn't help but notice the subtle flicker of the cigarette held between her fingers, adding an element of mystery to the atmosphere surrounding you both.

Her gaze, fixed on you from behind the desk, seemed to penetrate through your facade, making you uneasy under her scrutiny. The ambiance in the room felt heavy with unspoken questions waiting to be addressed, the weight of your presumed evasion hanging in the air. 

The Handler's first words resonated in the quiet space, cutting through the tension like a sharp blade. "So," she began, her tone calculated and discerning, "you truly thought you'd escaped, didn't you?" 

Her inquiry carried a hint of intrigue, hinting at a deeper understanding of your motives and actions, forcing you to confront the reality of your situation.

You stay silent, your breath held in anticipation, until a sudden flinch betrays your composure at the resounding slam of The Handler's hand on the mahogany desk, startling you. 

"Answer me when I speak to you, girl," she demands with a scowl, her piercing eyes fixed on your trembling form, causing a nervous gulp to escape your tightening throat. 

"..I never wanted to do this," you muster the courage to speak, your voice wavering with a mixture of fear and defiance. 

"But you were the best of the best, dear," The Handler retorts, a cold smirk playing on her lips as she dismisses your reluctance with a mocking tone. 

"Obviously, some part of you wanted it," she adds, her words cutting through the tense atmosphere like a knife, leaving you with a bitter taste of realization. 

The weight of her expectations bears down on you, a burden that you never sought yet now carry with reluctant acceptance, a reluctant acceptance that binds you to a fate chosen for you, not by you. 

You pause to contemplate for a brief moment, pondering the truth in her words, albeit only partially accurate. 

Reflecting on your past conversations with Five, you recall how your knowledge was limited, leading you to reluctantly assume a role that now fills you with remorse.

But in those earlier days, there was no hint of remorse for the countless lives you had taken.

"I refuse. I am done killing," you state resolutely, the newfound strength in your voice disappearing as The Handler rises from her seat.

She fixes a sharp gaze upon you. "You do not have a say in the matter," she asserts, inclining her head in your direction. "Surely, you wouldn't wish for Five to witness another tragedy befalling his family, would you?"

Your eyes widen a fraction at the Handler's words as she effortlessly maintains her enigmatic smile. "Wh- what?" you manage to ask shakily, your voice betraying a mix of confusion and a growing sense of dread.

The Handler's smile, ever knowing and mysterious, returns as she leans in closer, her words laced with a strange sense of calmness. "Now now, y/n," she hums softly, her tone almost soothing despite the gravity of her words. 

"You simply have to return to the commission to ensure that Five has his family," she states with a certainty that sends chills down your spine. "Simple as that," she concludes, her words carrying a weight that hints at a deeper, darker agenda.

Your initial reaction is one of disbelief as you try to process the enormity of the situation. You scoff almost involuntarily out of sheer disbelief, unable to fathom the magnitude of the task that lies ahead. 

"That's if  he even stops the apocalypse," you retort, your voice tinged with a hint of skepticism and fear. "And even then, he'd be suspicious if I suddenly went back to-" 

As the Handler makes her way around the desk, her actions speak louder than words. Once her cigarette is extinguished, her restrained demeanor evaporates into a storm of volatile emotions.

"Listen to me, you ungrateful little bitch." she spits out each word with venomous intention, her grip on your tattoed wrist cutting into your skin like a blade. 

With a swift jerk, you are forcefully pulled from your seated position, the pressure of her nails digging into your arm adding a physical manifestation to her verbal assault.

"We crafted you, molded you into what you are," her voice seething with a twisted sense of pride. "You are a part of us, embedded in our design. To think otherwise is pure delusion," the words drip with intimidation as her grip tightens around your wrist, sending a shiver down your spine.

"This is what you were meant to do since day one," she whispered as she pulled you closer, her grip tightening subtly. "You're not free to choose, you're just property in my world. Every decision you make will be under my command, unless you want to witness the excruciating pain of your loved ones as their lives end in the most unimaginable way possible."

She gets in your face, glaring fiercely with eyes filled with intensity. "Do I make myself clear?" she asks through gritted teeth, her voice laced with a stern tone that sends a chill down your spine.

You nod shakily, feeling a lump form in your throat as tears well up in your eyes, unable to mask the fear that grips you.

With a sinister smile creeping on her face once more, The Handler forcefully shoves you backward, causing you to lose your balance and stumble against the chair where you were previously seated, a sudden jolt of fear coursing through your veins.

"Good. We're on the same page," she states coolly, taking her seat behind the desk, her demeanor unwavering. "Now. Be a good little agent and pick a mission from the tube room. I expect heads to roll"

You find yourself unable to give a steady reply as a surge of panic engulfs your every thought, prompting you to practically sprint out of The Handler's office, the pervasive grip of fear clutching at every corner of your mind and heart.

~~~

After The Handler had spoken to you, and threatened Five's family with death if you didn't comply with her demands, you found yourself in the dimly lit bathroom, the cold ceramic of the sink beneath your trembling fingers offering a stark contrast to the chaos swirling in your mind.

In the wake of tears long shed, your heart heavy with the weight of unbearable stress and the looming shadow of impending betrayal by Five, a suffocating sense of self-loathing settled deep within you. 

Every fiber of your being seemed to scream in protest as you grappled with the realization that you had no choice but to succumb to The Handler's iron will.

The sound of the bathroom door creaking open cut through the heavy silence, a stark reminder of the inescapable trap closing in around you. 

Despite the intrusion, you remained fixated on the cracked reflection in the mirror, unable to meet your own eyes for fear of the raw emotion and conflict roiling within.

Then, the pressure of a firm grip on your shoulder finally forced your gaze upwards.

"Shit, Y/N, I've been looking for you everywhere," Five says with a small grin, relief evident in his expression. 

"I've found a few things that could help us with stopping the apocalypse." With a gentle gesture, he leads you towards a nearby bathroom stall, a sense of urgency driving his actions as he locks the door behind you.

"We can't be too safe; anyone could come in," he starts to say before you cut him off, your voice hoarse from earlier sobbing.

"This is also the girls' room," you retort, a mix of weariness and defiance in your tone, a testament to the emotional toll the apocalyptic events have taken on you.

"Well, yeah, but I couldn't find you anywhere else," Five's voice holds a hint of confusion, turning his statement into a question as he finally takes in the sight of your tear-stained face, red-rimmed eyes reflecting the weight of the world on your shoulders.

"What, does your shoulder hurt again? What's the matter with you?" he asks, lifting your injured arm gently to try and study the movement, his brow furrowed in concern.

You instinctively yank your arm back, feeling the twinge of pain as you do so. "I'm fine, Five," you say, the weariness in your voice betraying the facade of strength you're trying to maintain. "Just leave it alone, please."

As you look into his eyes, you see the worry melt away, replaced by a hint of exasperation. "Yeah? Well, you said you'd quit with the lying," he retorts, his tone a mix of frustration and care.

You cut him off before he can say more, a sense of urgency in your voice. "Five, I'm serious," you stress, hoping he understands the gravity of the situation.

He meets your gaze, his expression softening as he realizes the depth of your plea. "Well, so am I," he finally responds, a sincerity in his voice that reassures you despite the unresolved tension between you.

"You don't understand," you try to reason, your voice quivering with the weight of unspoken truths. 

"Don't give me that bullshit, y/n," Five sternly tells you, his tone a mix of frustration and hurt that hangs heavy in the dimly lit space of the stall. 

Each word he utters is like a sharp blade cutting through the tension between you, making the air thick with unspoken accusations.

"Obviously, something's fucking wrong, and you're keeping something from me," he scoffs, his eyes searching yours for a glimpse of the truth that you are desperately trying to shield. 

"Do you even want me to be able to trust you? Because damn it, y/n, every time you get close to redeeming yourself, you let another secret spill."

You shrink into yourself, feeling the weight of his disappointment pressing down on you like a suffocating cloak. Guilt and shame intertwine within you, knotting together until they become a heavy burden that you struggle to bear in the suffocating silence that lingers between you.

Five took a step back, offering you some room to breathe. "You made it clear. No secrets between us," he gently reinforced.

Your voice caught in your throat as tears welled in your eyes.

He noticed your distress and moved the folder he was holding to softly rest a hand on your shoulder, unscathed from whatever ordeal you may have faced. "What could have happened in the time we were apart?" He voiced the question that lingered between you, the concern evident in his softened gaze.

"She- she's making me stay here, Five- I have no choice! She'll kill them, Five! She'll-!"! The panic rising within me, the urgency in my voice escalating as I try to convey the imminent danger, pleading for intervention that might spare me from this terrifying fate.

Before I can finish my desperate plea, the bathroom door suddenly creaks open, signaling the intrusion of an unexpected presence. 

With a swift movement, Five's hand clamps over your mouth, stifling your cries, cutting off your words in a desperate attempt to protect your presence from being exposed.

As Five pulls you closer to him, your back pressed against his firm chest, you feel his unwavering grip on your mouth, his touch a mixture of gentle assurance and unyielding resolve.

"Shit..." Five, feeling the weight of the situation, mutters under his breath, his heart thumping in his chest like a drumbeat, as the stall door to our right closes with a definitive click, the sound reverberating off the bathroom walls, drowning out any hope of escape in that moment.

"So, how's your first day going?" The Handler's voice, with a touch of subtle authority, cuts through the stale air of the restroom, her presence commanding attention even as her seemingly routine act of dropping her skirt to the tiled floor.

Five's mind races, a storm of nerves and adrenaline threatening to overwhelm him, before he grits his teeth. 

"Couldn't be better," he manages, his voice steady despite the chaos within. He steadies himself, keeping his hand firmly pressed against your mouth.

"Glad to hear it," the Handler replies, her tone unconsciously betraying a hint of suspicion, as if she senses the tension hanging thick in the air between them.

And then, as the deafening silence punctuated only by the woman's bathroom noises fills the room, time seems to stretch out infinitely, each second hanging heavy with unspoken truths and uncharted consequences.

"I burned my rugae," she lamented, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. "Ever burn your rugae?"

Five, staying silent, displayed a clear sense of disgust, his distaste evident as he focused on regulating his breathing, attempting to maintain composure in the situation at hand.

"Rugae." she huffs impatiently. "The ridges on the hard palate that help pass food to the esophagus."

Furthermore, she elaborated, "Anyway, I'm on a liquid diet for two days, hence the marathon of urination." The Handler paused, reflecting momentarily, before adding, "One faulty cog, and nothing works as it should."

"You know, we value integrity at the office above all else," she starts again, flushing the toilet, the soft sound echoing in the immaculate restroom that whispers a sense of professionalism. 

The sink turns on, and the woman meticulously lathers her hands with lavender-scented soap.

"Trust is essential," she continues, her voice poised and authoritative. "And that trust is not just granted; it is earned through consistent actions and ethical decisions, cultivated over time like a precious garden." She pauses.

"But in the event of a breach," her tone sharpens, revealing the steely resolve beneath her composed demeanor, "The Commission will act swiftly and without mercy to protect the sanctity of our values."

There's a subtle lilt of pride as she speaks, a knowing satisfaction in upholding standards that define the essence of the office. "Efficiency," she remarks, the word carrying a depth of meaning beyond mere productivity. 

"I'm sure you above all people can appreciate its importance, Number Five." Her assurance blends with a hint of challenge, acknowledging your reputation for meticulous attention to detail and flawless execution.

"I'm feeling peckish," she interjects after a moment, seamlessly transitioning to a more casual tone that belies her earlier seriousness, "have you had your lunch?" The question hangs in the air, laden with unspoken implications.

"Not yet," Five sighed, his frustration palpable as he waited for her to leave.

"Great," she said with a grin, though you could'nt see it. "How would you like to lunch with me in my office?" Her voice was inviting, though you both knew she didn't mean it.

She continued, drying her hands on a towel before adding, "You can eat solid foods, and I can live vicariously... through you."

"Sounds great," Five replied with a forced smile, the tension in his jaw evident as he fought to keep his emotions in check. 

He finally released his grip on your mouth, glancing warily at the door as The Handler exited the bathroom.

You let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the moment lifting from your shoulders as you exited the dimly lit stall and began to pace nervously around the cold, sterile atmosphere of the bathroom.

"You're really going to have lunch with her?" you whispered in disbelief, the concern evident in your voice, "You have no idea what she's capable of-"

Feeling a gentle touch on your trembling shoulders, you looked up to see Five standing in front of you, his presence offering a sense of reassurance in the midst of your escalating anxiety. "It will all work out," he said calmly, his eyes meeting yours with unwavering certainty, "I'll make sure of it."

As you struggled to compose yourself, your hand reached up to nervously brush away a lock of hair that had fallen across your face, your mind full of worry and uncertainty. 

"But what if things go wrong-?" you questioned, your voice barely above a whisper, the fear palpable in your words.

Five's concern for you was evident as he pressed further, his voice tinged with urgency, "What happened in there? You look like you've seen a ghost," he remarked, his piercing gaze searching for answers amidst your evident distress, "You seem.. genuinely terrified, what happened to Sparky, hm?"

You avoid eye contact. "..She threatened your family.. I.."

Five visibly stiffens, his hands falling from your shoulders, a look of disbelief washing over his features. "And.. You didn't do anything about it?" he pauses, trying to process the weight of your words. 

"What did you say earlier?" His voice is tinged with concern, a hint of urgency creeping in.

"..I can't leave here, Five.." you start, your voice quivering with emotion as you struggle to hold back tears. 

"You need to go back to your family and stop the apocalypse. When you go to lunch with The Handler, take a grenade from her office, just.. just blow this place up and-" Your voice falters, the gravity of the situation bearing down on you as you try to convey the magnitude of your plea.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down, Sparks." Five's voice is soothing yet firm as he gently guides your face to look into his eyes once more. 

"You're not staying here. Just.. just hang tight, okay?" The reassurance in his tone is palpable, a sense of determination underlying his words as he tries to comfort you in the midst of chaos and uncertainty.

As you eased back, you let out a small nod and cautiously whispered, "..Just be careful..?" In response, Five reciprocated with a series of nods, sliding his hands casually into his pockets.

With a subtle grin, he reassured you, "I always am, Sparky. I'll find a way out of here." The confidence in his tone was evident as he spoke, his words filled with determination and resolve.

~~~

A/N - shorter chapter today brought to you by my terrible improv

word count - 4846

[80pairsofcrocs]

spacial sparks || 9

Chapter warnings - mention of drinking and pills, gun, threats of violence, time travel stuff, shooting, mentions of killing, let me know if i missed anything.

~~~

Second pov 

~~~

The only sound in the room was the distinct tapping of the chalk against the walls of Five's room, reverberating in the silence. 

After receiving help from him with your injury, he mentioned that he planned to create a probability map in order to pinpoint the culprit behind the apocalypse. 

Assuring you of his effort and asking for your patience, he delved into his work, immersed in concentration. 

Approximately 20 minutes elapsed, and as you observed, he was nearing the completion of his task. 

"Oh, okay, I think I've got something, Sparky" he remarked, just as the echo of heavy footsteps resonated from the corridor. 

Placing the chalk down with a definitive gesture, he expressed his optimism about the outcome. 

You reciprocated with a subtle grin, acknowledging his dedication, as a new presence entered the room, bridging the gap between anticipation and discovery.

"Who you talkin- oh hey y/n. What is all this?" Luther directs the last part of his sentence at Five, his brow furrowed in curiosity, eager to unravel the mystery before them. 

"It's a probability map," Five reveals with a sense of urgency, his voice tinged with a mix of anxiety and determination as he steps down from the chair he was precariously perched on, the weight of his discovery heavy on his shoulders. 

"Probability of what?" Luther's confusion deepens, prompting Five to steel himself for the forthcoming revelation. 

"Of whose death could save the world," Five explains, the gravity of the situation dawning on him as he starts to piece together the intricate puzzle that could determine the fate of humanity. 

"I've narrowed it down to four," he continues, his words hanging in the air like a foreboding cloud, each name on the list representing a potential sacrifice for the greater good, a burden that they must now bear collectively. 

"Are you saying one of these four people causes the apocalypse?" Luther asks again, rolling your eyes at all the questions. 

You see Five roll his eyes as well, going back to writing on the wall. 

"No, I'm saying that their death might prevent it." Luther's expression shifts, eyebrows creased in confusion as he processes the gravity of the situation. 

After a beat of silence filled only by the scratch of the chalk on the rough walls, he admits, "I'm not following." 

Frustration bubbles up within you, prompting an exasperated groan and a weary rub of your eyes. 

"For fucks sake," you mutter under your breath, a mix of weariness and impatience lacing your words. 

Luther's confusion seems to intensify, and you realize you need to find a way to simplify the explanation, to make him understand the stakes at hand.

"Time is fickle, Luther," Five began, his expression contemplative. "The slightest alteration in events can lead to massively different outcomes in the time continuum."

"The butterfly effect." you cut in, Five nodding at you. 

"Exactly."

"So all we have to do is find the people with the greatest probability of impacting the timeline, wherever they may be, and kill them." Five elucidated succinctly, prompting your understanding.

Luther's brows furrowed in realization as his gaze settled on the list of names before him. "Milton Greene. So who's he, a terrorist or something?" Luther pondered, directing his inquiry towards you and Five, seeking further clarity.

"Isn't he a gardener?" you question Five, hoping for some clarity on the situation. 

"Pretty sure, yeah," he responds nonchalantly, his tone betraying hints of mischief.

"You can't be serious. Wait, this is madness, Five, you are corrupting y/n. You-" Luther starts his protest, his voice wavering with concern as Five discreetly signals to you to move away from the bed. 

With a stern look aimed at Luther, you rise to your feet, your gaze challenging him.

"Wh-Where'd you get that?" Luther stammers, his eyes wide and fearful as he gestures towards the gun that Five has produced from under the bed.

"In Dad's room," Five explains casually, his eyes fixed on a point on the wall as he aims the weapon. 

"I think he used it to shoot a rhinoceros. It's similar to the model I used at work," he adds, glancing at you briefly as he mentions his past employment and the familiarity of the firearm.

"Nice shoulder fit and highly reliable," Five said with a confident nod, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he glanced at you, silently acknowledging your agreement based on having previously used a similar weapon. 

"But you can't just overlook this," Luther intervened, the furrow in his brow deepening as he pointed out, "This guy, 'Milton' is not the target here; he's innocent." 

Your head involuntarily shook in disagreement with Luther's perspective, understanding the gravity of the situation but struggling to justify the sacrifice of an innocent life.

"It all boils down to simple calculations," Five asserted, his demeanor calm yet resolute. "It's basic math." He shrugs. 

"His death could potentially save the lives of billions. If I did nothing, he'd be dead in four days anyway." he reasoned, motioning dismissively towards Luther, clearly convinced of the necessity for action.

"The apocalypse won't spare anyone." you added quietly, your tone reflecting the weight of the impending doom that hung over the group, making it difficult to see a way out that didn't involve sacrifice.

"We don't do this kind of thing." Luther stated firmly, addressing both you and Five with a mixture of conviction and uncertainty, grappling with the moral implications.

"We are not doing anything," Five said with a firm tone, gesturing towards himself and Luther standing beside him. 

"Me and y/n are." Taking a step forward, he looped a finger through your rehab bracelet, silently signaling for you to follow him out of the room. 

"I can't let you go and kill innocent people, no matter how many lives you'll save," Luther stated firmly, his attempt at appearing intimidating falling short of its mark. 

Despite his words, a sense of desperation lingered in his gaze.

"Well, good luck stopping us," Five responded, a defiant edge in his voice as both of you turned to exit the room. 

However, the tension escalated as Luther grabbed Dolores, holding her precariously out of the open window, adding a dramatic twist to the already tense confrontation.

"You're not going anywhere," he says darkly to Five, both of you turning around to face the big man. 

You roll your eyes and scoff at the tension in the room, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you.

"Put... her... down," Five demands of Luther, his anger palpable in the air as he tries to protect what matters most to him.

"Put the gun down. You're not killing anyone," Luther orders sternly, his voice commanding yet conflicted. 

Despite Luther's plea, Five refuses to drop the weapon, the standoff intensifying with each passing moment. 

"I know she's important to you, so don't make me do this," Luther continues, the gravity of the choice he faces reflected in his eyes as your heart rate quickens.

Frustrated by the deadlock, you scoff once more, your impatience surfacing as time slips away. "It's either her or the gun." Feeling a surge of adrenaline, you make a split-second decision to lunge at Luther, attempting to snatch the doll from his grasp. 

However, your brave move is swiftly thwarted as you're abruptly hoisted into the air by the back of your shirt, the doll slipping from your reach and cascading out the window.

The sound of Five's gasp fills the room, echoing the turmoil of emotions swirling around you. 

Another breathless 'whoosh' signals Five's return, cradling Dolores protectively, the tension in the room finally easing as you all try to catch your breath in the aftermath of the intense stand-off.

"I can do this all day," Luther tells Five confidently, as he gestures towards you, still suspended about a foot above the ground. 

"I know you're still a good person, Five," he starts, his voice filled with unwavering faith. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have risked everything coming back here to save us all."

Taking a deep breath, Luther continues, sensing Five's inner turmoil. "But you're not on your own anymore," he concludes, his tone soft yet resolute, offering Five reassurance in their shared fight.

Five, feeling the weight of the moment, shifts his gaze from you to Luther, conveying a mix of vulnerability and determination.

 "There is one way," he begins, his brow furrowed in contemplation, his hand absently running through his disheveled hair, a sign of the gravity of the situation. 

"But it's just about impossible," he admits, acknowledging the daunting challenge ahead with a hint of hope lingering in his voice.

"More impossible than what brought you back here?" asks Luther with a raised eyebrow, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

"We're about to find out," Five replies confidently, a hint of mystery in his tone, as he nods to himself, preparing for what lies ahead.

"Can you put me down now?" you ask Luther, your impatience evident in your voice as you glance down at the ground below. 

Luther's face softens with guilt as he slowly lowers you back onto the solid surface. "Sorry about that. I didn't even realize I was still holding you up there."

Feeling a playful urge, you lightly poke him in the arm, your powers sparking a brief reaction from Luther. 

"Of course you didn't," you tease with a small smile, relishing the familiar banter between you two before turning to exit the room, the two boys dutifully following in your wake, their presence a reassurance amid the uncertainties that lie ahead.

~~~

You were left waiting in the car for what felt like an eternity, glancing at the passing minutes on the dashboard before Luther and Five finally caught up. 

Inevitably, you always ended up in the backseat whenever Luther was around, knowing all too well that he trusted a toddler behind the wheel more than he trusted you. 

As for Five, you had a sneaking suspicion that he would have preferred you in the back no matter what.

While Five hadn't explicitly divulged the plan to you, he had imparted the cryptic instruction to trust him—an act that you did, albeit with a hint of reservation. 

Speculating on the nature of Five's scheme, you surmised that it likely involved the secluded ambiance of the car in an open and deserted setting.

Breaking the weighty silence like a disrupt in a still pond, Five uttered words that cut through the quiet air like a sharp knife. 

His admission made you furrow your brows in anticipation, sensing where the conversation was headed. 

"You know, I never enjoyed it," Five confessed, prompting Luther to interject with a puzzled, "What?" as he tried to grasp the cryptic exchange unfolding before him.

Five takes a deep breath, his voice heavy with the weight of his confession. "The killing," he begins, his words trailing off as he struggles to articulate his thoughts. 

"I mean, I was... I was good at my work," his voice quivers slightly, revealing the conflict within him, "and I... I took pride in it. But it never gave me pleasure," he continues, his tone filled with a mixture of remorse and resignation, as if grappling with the consequences of his actions.

As he pauses, his gaze momentarily flickers towards you, but you remain absorbed in your own thoughts, your eyes fixed on the floor of the car, oblivious to his silent plea for understanding. 

The solitude, he muses, can be a cruel companion, shaping your thoughts in ways you never thought possible. 

It was a feeling you knew all too well, having spent long hours alone during your tenure at the Commission, with only your thoughts for company.

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Five opens up about his time on the moon, his voice tinged with a hint of bitterness.

 "Yeah, well, you were gone for such a long time. I only spent four years on the moon, but that was more than enough," he mutters, his eyes revealing a glimpse of the loneliness that still haunts him. 

"It's the being alone that breaks you," he adds, his words carrying the weight of accumulated sorrow and regret.

Amidst the somber atmosphere, Luther's voice cuts through the silence, brimming with uncertainty. 

"You think they'll buy it?" he asks, his tone tinged with a note of desperation, seeking reassurance in the face of looming doubt.

"Well, what I do know is that they're desperate," you mull over the situation, grappling with the implications of their urgency. 

Five's enigmatic words hang in the air, prompting a surge of questions in your mind, each vying for clarity. 

"It's like a cop losing his gun. If the Commission finds out, they'll be in deep trouble," the severity of the consequences hits you like a ton of bricks, sending a shiver down your spine. 

'Does his plan have something to do with the Commission?!' you cry out internally, your thoughts racing to connect the dots. 

"Oh, not to mention the fact that they'll be stuck here until they retrieve it," Five adds, further emphasizing the weight of the situation and the looming sense of entrapment. 

"Well, I should hold onto it," Luther interjects, offering a strategic perspective on the matter, his voice calm yet firm. 

"Hm?" Five feigns innocence, his expression a mask of puzzlement that belies the depth of his understanding. 

"In case they make a move on you," Luther's words carry a sense of protective resolve.

"Okay, Luther, but be careful," Five cautioned, his voice tinged with a mixture of wisdom and concern. "I mean, I've lived a long life, seen things that would make your head spin," he continued, his gaze momentarily clouded with memories. 

Fidgeting with your plastic bracelet, you couldn't help but feel the weight of his words sink in. 

"You're still a young man," Five acknowledged, his tone softening with a hint of wistfulness. "You got your whole life ahead of you," he added, his eyes focusing on some distant point only he could see. 

Pausing for a moment, Five's expression turned serious as he delivered his final plea: "Don't waste it."

The sound of a car nearing drew your attention to the window, where you caught sight of the two familiar faces from a few nights ago. 

A wave of relief washed over you, realizing it wasn't the ominous figure of The Handler. 

Five, ever the strategist, hummed softly, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. "Here we go," he mused aloud, the gravity of the situation settling in. 

Turning to Luther, he made a request tinged with regret, "If this all goes sideways, do me a favor and tell Dolores I'm sorry," his words heavy with unspoken implications. Luther, understanding the weight of the task entrusted to him, simply nodded in acknowledgement.

Five, upon noticing your reluctance to leave the car, turns his gaze towards you. "y/n? Come on we gotta go," he urges, interrupting your quiet fiddling with your bracelet. 

Gradually, you raise your eyes to meet his and respond with a slow nod.

"Yep, right. Sorry," you whisper apologetically, acknowledging his prompting as he gestures towards his door to indicate it's time to move. 

With a deep breath, you follow suit, swinging open your door and stepping out before pushing it closed with a resounding thud.

As you both exit the vehicle, Five voices his query about the necessity of masks to the two individuals in suits standing nearby. 

Intrigued, you move closer, positioning yourself a few steps behind Five, your hands tucked casually in your pockets.

"Where is it, kid?" one of the suited figures inquires, prompting Five to hint at the mysterious location being sought.

"Wow, that's how you're gonna start," Five muttered to himself, his voice carrying a mix of disbelief and a hint of amusement. 

"You know, we can get right back in our car and call it a day," he suggested casually to the tense-looking man and woman in front of him, a subtle challenge underlying his words. 

"You won't even make it halfway there."

"Maybe," Five shrugged nonchalantly, a touch of cockiness in his demeanor. 

"But as I'm sure you found out in your previous foray, my brother is not your average giant," he informed them, his tone carrying a touch of warning as he glanced briefly at Luther, who was already shooting him a bewildered 'what the heck' look before refocusing on the task at hand.

"He's right," the masked man chimed in, breaking the tension with a calm assertion. 

"You dropped a chandelier on him, and he simply got right back up," he recounted, causing your eyes to widen with a mixture of surprise and admiration.

As you processed the masked man's words, relief washed over you, silently acknowledging, 'Well, at least he's okay now,' a subtle sense of gratitude settling in amidst the chaos of the moment.

"By the time you took him out, he'd smash your precious briefcase to a pulp," Five tells them with a tone filled with warning.

 "And even in the slight chance he doesn't, y/n here will fry it," he continues, gesturing towards you, emphasizing the impending threat. 

"Probably us too, right?" the man interjects, seeking clarification on the potential danger that looms around the group. "So, how do we help each other?" 

"I need you to get in contact with your superior so I can have a chat with her," Five states firmly, causing a wave of apprehension to wash over you suddenly, prompting a physical reaction as you place a hand on your stomach, feeling queasy at the prospect. 

"Face-to-face," he adds, emphasizing the necessity for a direct and immediate conversation with your superior.

"About what?" 

"Well, I don't believe that's any of your concern," Five responds cryptically, heightening the mystery shrouding his intentions. 

"Just don't tell her about the briefcase," he warns firmly, establishing a boundary that must not be crossed for the safety of all involved.

"Fair enough," the suited figures agree.

As you all huddle near the car, the woman steps aside to make a call, leaving you with a sense of anticipation hanging in the air. 

With each step back towards the vehicle, you feel a heaviness in your movements, your breaths coming shallow and your jaw tightly clenched.

Curiosity tinged with concern fills Luther's voice as he breaks the silence, asking, "What happens now?"

Five's response is brief but definitive, "Now we wait." His gaze shifts towards you, observing as you lean wearily against the car. 

Sensing your unease, he edges closer until your shoulders nearly touch.

"Are you alright?" he inquires, meeting your gaze as a flicker of uncertainty flashes across your features. 

"The Handlers coming here?" you question, pointing towards the ground in a shaky gesture. His nod carries a weight of resignation.

With a heavy sigh, you absentmindedly twirl the bracelet between your thumb and forefinger, a nervous habit betraying your inner turmoil. 

"I didn't tell you before because I had a feeling you would leave." his confession hangs in the air, prompting you to turn your gaze back to meet his, searching for understanding in his eyes.

"Well maybe it would be for the best if I left," you tell him, still feeling sick. Five looks confused.

"Why's that?" he asks.

"Because you don't li-" 

"We've already talked about this," he interrupts. 

"I don't not like you," he tells you firmly, and you turn away from him to hide a lopsided grin, your heart fluttering with a mix of relief and uncertainty. 

As you try to gather your thoughts, a faint sound drifts through the air, the distant melody of music.

"You hear that too, right?" you ask Five, seeking confirmation. 

He nods in agreement, his expression mirroring a sense of curiosity. 

Both of you instinctively turn towards the source of the sound, noticing an approaching ice cream truck slowly making its way down the street, the joyful jingle becoming louder as it nears you. 

The vivid colors and playful design of the truck spark a sense of nostalgia and joy in you both, momentarily distracting you from the intensity of the moment you and Five were just sharing.

"Is that her?" Luther asks, a perplexed expression clouding his features, as he gazes intently at the figure in the distance.

"What the hell is he doing here?" The question hangs in the air, laced with a mixture of disbelief and frustration, as you both try to make sense of the unexpected sighting.

"Is that Klaus?!" Your voice rings out with a blend of astonishment and delight, catching you off guard as you spot the familiar face waving from the passing truck, his presence like a surreal twist in the unfolding scene.

"It's a setup!" Cha-Cha's urgent declaration reverberates through the tense atmosphere, her tone laced with a sense of impending danger as she swiftly draws her firearm, the metallic click echoing loudly and sending a chill down your spine, eliciting a sharp gasp of surprise from you at the sudden turn of events.

The two ruthless assassins, identified as Hazel and Cha-Cha, suddenly start unleashing a barrage of bullets in your direction. 

Reacting swiftly, you instinctively lower your body and shield your face as Luther valiantly steps forward to shield both you and Five.

 Feeling a mix of disbelief and admiration, you give Luther a quizzical look before pushing him away, narrowly deflecting a bullet that was aimed at him.

Expressing gratitude with a nod, Luther's reassurance is short-lived as you quickly notice incoming bullets heading your way. 

Closing your eyes tightly and bracing for impact, your heart races in anticipation of the inevitable danger. 

In a moment of shock, you find yourself gasping in surprise as you look around, only to realize that everything around you has come to a sudden standstill. 

A surreal silence envelops you as you and Five remain suspended in time, the chaos frozen in a still frame as your mind tries to comprehend the strange occurrence.

You redirect your gaze towards Five, who has now positioned himself to your right, gently taking hold of your arm to guide you a few steps forward. 

The sudden shift in direction catches you off guard, and you find yourself fixated on the woman standing before you, disbelief etched across your features.

"Neat trick, isn't it?" her voice permeates the air, resonating in your ears.

Upon locking eyes with Five, she addresses them with a brief acknowledgment, "Well, you're looking rather well, considering everything." 

Her attention then shifts to you, a spark of recognition lighting up her expression as she exclaims with genuine delight, 

"Oh, y/n, my dear, is that you in that little body? How wonderful to be reunited with you after all this time," her words carrying a cheerful cadence. 

Your response is muted as you remain transfixed, absorbing the unexpected encounter before you.

She turns back to look at Five, offering a warm smile. "It's truly delightful to have this reunion," she begins, her voice filled with nostalgia. 

"It almost feels as though we met only yesterday." A chuckle escapes her lips, evoking a slight cringe from you at the memory. "Of course, time has a funny way of playing tricks on us. Back then, you were a bit more seasoned, and she was just beginning her journey."

Your hand trembles as you reach out to touch Five's hand, which still clings to your forearm. "Congratulations on the age regression, by the way." she remarks gently. 

The Handler then resumes speaking, prompting you to delicately pry Five's hand from your arm to grasp it securely, the tremor subsiding slowly.

"Very clever. Threw us all off the scent." The Handler notes, clearly impressed.

Five, with a confident tone, diverts the attention away from the scene before you. "Ah, well, I wish I could take credit." he admits, his voice concise yet revealing a hint of regret. 

"I just miscalculated the time dilation projections, and... Well, you know. Here I am." The explanation is brief, but it sheds light on the intricate complexities that brought about the current situation.

"You realize your efforts are futile," The Handler tells him with a hint of resignation evident in her voice. 

"So why don't you tell me what you really want?" she requests, her tone a mix of curiosity and understanding, as if hoping for a glimpse of true clarity amidst the chaos.

"I want you to put a stop to it," Five tells her bluntly, the weight of his plea echoing in the firm grip of his hand on yours, a silent reassurance in the face of uncertainty, a silent acknowledgment of the shared burden you both carry.

"You realize what you're asking for is next to impossible, even for me," The Handler shrugs, a glimmer of vulnerability underlying her composed facade, a flicker of doubt dancing in her eyes. 

"What's meant to be is meant to be," she continues, her voice tinged with a sense of fatalism that seems to weigh heavy on her shoulders. "That's our raison d'être."

Five scoffs at her words, a defiant spark igniting in his gaze. "Yeah? Well how about survival as a raison?" His question hangs in the air, a challenge thrown at the very core of her beliefs, a question that cuts through the layers of the Handler's stoic demeanor, hitting a nerve that lingers on the edge of her consciousness.

"I'll just be replaced," The Handler shrugs again, a resigned acceptance coloring her words. "I'm but a... small cog in a machine," she admits, her voice a somber reflection of the truth she carries. 

"This fantasy you've been nurturing, about summoning up your family to stop the apocalypse... is just that," she concludes, a note of finality in her tone, a stark reminder of the harsh reality.

"A fantasy," she murmurs softly, taking a calculated breath to compose herself. "I must say, though, we're all quite impressed with your initiative, your exceptional stick-to-itiveness; it's truly commendable. Quite an admirable quality you possess." 

Her words are measured, conveying both praise and subtle scrutiny in their undertone. 

With a wistful exhale, she continues, her gaze shifting pensively towards you, a glimmer of expectation dancing in her eyes.

"Which is why we want to offer you a new position back at the Commission, in management." she hesitates before adding the next part, her voice tinged with a mix of sincerity and manipulation. 

"And y/n, dear, your father misses you terribly, we all deeply long for your return. It would mean the world to us," she states, the faux sympathy in her tone almost palpable.

The conversation is momentarily interrupted as Five interjects, his curiosity apparent in his glance towards you, prompting a pause in the dialogue. 

"Come back to work for us, both of you. It's evident that your place is here; a valuable asset you both are. Though the past may have had its challenges," The Handler muses, her voice regaining momentum, "We believe a different path lies ahead for you. You wouldn't be confined to the correction division anymore, a fresh start awaits."

"I'm talking about-" she tries to find the words, a slight furrow forming on her brow in contemplation. "-the home office. You'd have the best health and pension, and an end to this ceaseless travel." there's a momentary lull in the conversation as she searches for the right words.

"You're a distinguished professional in... schoolboy shorts." she playfully quips, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she gestures towards Five's unconventional choice of attire, eliciting a silent but unmistakable eye roll from him in response to her teasing.

"Oh, and darling!" she starts anew, her gaze shifting towards you. "I could never forget how cute you looked in your little stealth suit." 

Her voice softens with a touch of nostalgia as she places a hand over her heart in a gesture of fond remembrance.

"Such a precious little killer," she turns back to Five, who has now focused his attention on you as you glance down at your shoes, a mix of emotions swirling within you. 

"We have the technology to reverse the process. I mean, you- you can't be happy like this." She attempts to reason with sincere concern lacing her words.

"I'm not looking for happiness." Five tells her, moving his eyes to her once again.

"We're all looking for happiness," she remarks with a thoughtful expression, your eyes meeting Five's before gently squeezing his hand. 

A quick glance from him acknowledges the silent support as his focus shifts back to The Handler. 

"We can make that happen. We can make you... yourself again." she reassures, her voice laced with determination.

"We can also resume your aging process, y/n" The Handler's statement about resuming your aging process causes a crease to form between your brows, prompting a questioning look towards her. 

"And what about my family?" Five's query echoes your concerns, both of you united in this moment.

With a sigh, The Handler probes, "What about them?"

"We want them to survive," you interject firmly, the unexpected plea causing a stir between Five and The Handler. 

A raised eyebrow and a subtle smirk indicate The Handler's intrigue. "All of them?"

"Yes, all of them," Five responds impatiently, his resolve unwavering as he advocates for the safety of his family.

"Well... I'll see what I can do," The Handler's voice held a hint of intrigue as she addressed both of you. 

"Do we have a deal?" Her hand extended, inviting a final confirmation.

Before fully agreeing, Five interjected, his touch lingering reassuringly on your hand before he turned to assist Luther with the imminent danger before him. 

A wave of relief washed over you, knowing that the Hargreeves were now safe from harm.

Returning to your side, Five's grip on your hand tightened as he guided both of you towards The Handler. 

You still felt sick at the thought of going back, but it's not like you had a choice. It was either this or the world literally ending. 

The inevitability of returning to the Commission weighed heavily on you, a sense of dread clinging to your every thought. 

Despite the overwhelming nausea that fluttered in the depths of your stomach, the notion of any alternative sent shivers down your spine.

The three of you disappear from the frozen scene in a blip of light, and you open your eyes to find yourself within the familiar walls of the Commission. 

The sterile environment echoed the gravity of the moment, contrasting sharply with the chaos that reigned outside those walls. 

The Handler's cool demeanor greeted you, her voice piercing the air with a blend of authority and familiarity that made you flinch involuntarily. 

"Welcome back to the Commission, Mr. Hargreeves and Ms. Carmichael," The Handler's words rang in the air, a stark reminder of the role you were bound to play in this intricate web of fate.

Your breath caught in your throat as shame and regret washed over you, a tsunami of emotions threatening to drown you. 

Avoiding Five's searching gaze, you battled the turmoil within, wishing you had found the courage to confide in him earlier.

Five's incredulous expression mirrored your own inner turmoil as he leaned closer, his eyes searching for answers in your troubled gaze.

"Carmichael?"

~~~

A/N : ooh surprise! anyways, thanks for reading and by the way i'll begin to explain more of y/n's backstory in later chapters. 

other title names - 'weeeeeee' 'so you're related to a fish..'

lemme know if you have any questions though <3

word count :  5218

[80pairsofcrocs]

spacial sparks || 8

Chapter warnings - mentions of underage(?) drinking, taking pills, throwing up, mention of past injuries, stitches and blood, time travel stuff, five being lowkey abused, let me know if i missed anything.

~~~

Second pov

~~~

You have been laying here in Diego's room for what felt like an eternity, the strange sensation in your gut intensifying as Klaus' whereabouts remain elusive, casting a shadow of worry over your mind.

Despite the clock showing just half an hour passing, the persistent unease refuses to dissipate, lingering as a palpable tension in the room.

As Five stirs beneath you, a jolt of surprise cuts through your thoughts, prompting you to meet his puzzled gaze. 

With a swift motion, you gently remove his arms and sit upright, trying to compose yourself.

A soft clearing of your throat breaks the uneasy silence, your cheeks coloring with embarrassment as you avert your eyes. 

Glancing at Five, you notice a mirrored expression of confusion on his face.

Before either of you could speak, Luther's sudden voice startles you both, drawing your attention to his amused gaze. "That was cute." 

Muttering an apology to Five, who nods in understanding, you slide your legs from the bed, settling into a more composed position as Five follows suit, the tension in the room slowly dissipating.

Luther wasted no time cutting to the point, immediately diving into the imminent danger at hand. 

"When's it supposed to happen? This... apocalypse." he inquired, fixing his gaze expectantly on Five. 

With a troubled expression, Five hesitated before providing a tentative response. 

"I can't give you the exact hour, but... from what I could gather, we have four days left." he disclosed slowly, the weight of the impending catastrophe hanging heavily in the air.

You couldn't help but release a silent sigh, your frustration manifesting in the clenching of your jaw.

Luther, feeling the urgency of the situation, voiced his concern, demanding to know why Five had delayed sharing this critical information. 

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" he pressed, his voice edged with a mix of worry and reproach.

In response to Luther's probing question, Five lifted his gaze, meeting Luther's determined eyes with a mixture of resignation and resolve. 

"It wouldn't have mattered." Five admitted, a sense of disillusionment tainting his words. 

Luther's determination didn't waver as he countered, convinced that united action could have made a difference in averting the impending crisis. 

"Of course it would." Luther asserted. "We could've banded together and helped you try to stop this thing."

As Five emitted a somber chuckle tinged with bitterness. "For the record, you already tried."

'What do you mean by 'they already tried'?' you mused silently, the puzzle of past events weighing heavily on your mind.

"What do you mean?" Luther voices your thoughts, and you furrow your brows in deep concern, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

"I found all of you," Five starts, his gaze briefly meeting yours, a mix of shock and distress evident in his eyes, adding to the eerie atmosphere enveloping the room. 

"Your bodies," he reveals, the air heavy with unspoken implications.

"We die?" Luther asks in a whisper, his voice almost trembling with the fear of the unknown future that looms before them, his hand unsteadily reaching out for reassurance.

"Horribly," Five begins, his tone laden with sorrow and regret, painting a vivid picture of the tragedy that befell them, the magnitude of the loss echoing in the somber silence that follows his words. "You were together, trying to stop whoever it was that ends the world."

"Wait, how do you know that?" Luther questions, a glint of suspicion flashing in his eyes, his skepticism hinting at a flicker of hope amidst the darkness that threatens to consume them.

Five pulls the glass eye out of his pocket, its presence a chilling reminder of the gruesome reality they face. 

"This was clutched in your dead hand when I found you," he states solemnly, the weight of the revelation settling heavily upon the group, each word driving home the harsh truth they must confront. 

"Must've ripped it out of their head right before you went down," he concludes, the implications of their last moments together painting a grim picture of sacrifice and resilience in the face of impending doom.

"Whose head?" Luther presses, his brow furrowed in concern as he awaited a response from Five, who appeared to be grappling with some internal conflict before delivering his uncertain answer.

"Like I said, I don't know," Five begins, his voice tinged with frustration as he struggles to convey the depth of his confusion before being rudely cut off by Luther, his patience clearly wearing thin as he interrupts the younger boy's attempt to explain.

"Well, there's a serial number on the back," Luther interjects, a hint of urgency in his tone as he tries to guide the conversation back on track, suggesting a potential solution to the mystery that had been plaguing them all. 

"Think maybe you could try," he prompts, his words carrying a mix of hope and uncertainty as he looks to Five for any sign of recognition or revelation that might help them make sense of the situation at hand.

"No, that's a dead end," Five chuckled dryly as he examined the piece of glass before casually tucking it back into his pocket. 

His nonchalant demeanor only added to the eerie atmosphere of the room. 

You found yourself unable to shake off the feeling of dread you had. Five had to see all of his siblings' lifeless bodies. 

The shock of such a gruesome discovery lingered in the air, weighing heavy on your heart and clouding your thoughts. 

The thought of what he must have felt upon that grim sight haunted you, reflecting in the deep furrow on your brow as you gazed down at the floor. 

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the sound of your troubled breaths.

Diego, entering abruptly with the door slamming against the wall, caused your unfinished thoughts to scatter in the chaotic moment. 

Startled by his sudden presence, you instinctively jumped at the unexpected intrusion. 

Meanwhile, as Diego advanced toward Five, Luther rose from his seat, unable to contain his frustration. 

Through gritted teeth, he muttered, "Piece of shit", before questioning Five with escalating intensity, "Do you have any idea what you just did?" 

His anger palpable, he appeared poised to confront Five physically, but Luther swiftly intervened, restraining Diego and preventing further escalation. 

Despite Diego's protests and attempts to break free, Luther stood firm, firmly holding him aloft as he issued a stern ultimatum, "I can do this as long as it takes you to calm down." 

Reluctantly, Diego acquiesced, begrudgingly agreeing to calm down before tensions escalated further, signaling a fragile truce in the emotionally charged confrontation.

You stood there, a mix of emotions swirling inside you as Luther confronted Diego. "Now, wanna tell us what you're talkin' about?"

Diego, clearly agitated, began recounting the chaotic series of events that had unfolded since their brother's return. 

"Our brother's been pretty busy since he got back. and he's been making y/n go with him too." His voice filled with frustration as he described how Y/N had been dragged into dangerous situations alongside his brother. 

"They were in the middle of that shootout at Griddy's, and then at Gimbel Brothers where y/n was shot after the guys in masks attacked the Academy, looking for him." Diego exclaims, visibly angry.

"None of which is any of your concern." Five tells him.

Diego's anger was palpable, echoing in the tense atmosphere. In contrast, Five's stern dismissal of the matter only added to the brewing tensions among the siblings. 

As you observed the confrontation, a pang of guilt nagged at you. 

If only you had reacted faster during the chaos, perhaps Y/N would not have been harmed, and Five's mission would have progressed smoother. 

It was a moment of reflection, a realization that your actions—or lack thereof—had consequences that affected not just yourself, but those around you.

As Diego stood there, his hand trembling with emotions, he took a deep, shaky breath, his voice heavy with grief as he uttered, "They just killed my friend." 

At hearing this devastating news, your head instinctively turned towards Diego, your heart sinking at the thought of the loss he must be feeling. 

Knowing that Diego didn't have many friends, your mind raced to imagine who this fallen comrade could be. 

Patch, a kind lady you had encountered a few times, instantly came to mind; she had seemed like a positive influence in Diego's life, bringing out the best in him.

Luther, sensing the tension in the air, interjected, voicing the question that lingered in everyone's minds, "Who are they, Five?" 

The focus shifted back to Five, who started to explain, his gaze occasionally flitting towards you. 

"They work for my former employer," he began, pausing to look directly at Luther and Diego. "A woman known as The Handler. She sent them to stop me."

Listening intently, you could sense the gravity of the situation as Five elaborated, "Once Diego's friend intervened, they saw it as fair game." 

Diego, with a determined glint in his eyes, voiced his resolve, "And now they're my fair game." Diego shakes his head and goes for the door. "And I'm gonna see to it they pay."  

His tone carried a dark undertone as he armed himself with a collection of knives, ready to seek vengeance.

However, Five, the voice of reason, issued a cautionary reminder, "They've killed people far more dangerous than you."

Diego, undeterred, stood firm, retorting, "Yeah, we'll see about that." His footsteps quickened towards the door, the air thick with determination, until you rose and gently grasped his arm.

"Wait, Diego," you urgently interject, your voice full of worry, causing him to pivot towards you with a searching gaze. "What about Klaus? Did you ever find him?" 

The desperation in your tone is palpable as you seek answers. The hollowness in Diego's expression speaks volumes – he, too, is perplexed by Klaus's whereabouts.

Your trembling lower lip betrays your attempt at composure as you endeavor to gather your thoughts. "Right.." 

Hastily, you acknowledge the loss of Patch, your words carrying a weight of sympathy. Diego remains silent, his silent gesture of solidarity comforting you as he rests his forehead gently against yours.

With a determined resolve in his eyes, he solemnly declares, "I'm going to make this right," before departing abruptly, the force of the door closing behind him reverberating through the room. 

You find yourself fixated on the door, eyes wide with a mix of emotions.

The unsettling string of revelations – Klaus's absence, Patch's demise, and the looming threat of The Handler's proximity – leaves you reeling, struggling to process the harsh truths that have unfurled before you.

You turn around to see Five and Luther looking at you with pity, their expressions mirroring a mix of concern and curiosity. 

"Quit looking at me like that," you snap at them before moving to sit back down on the bed next to Five, seeking solace in his silent presence.

A heavy silence hung in the air, thick with unspoken questions, until Luther finally broke it with a direct inquiry. "Former employer? What's this really about?" he probed, his tone betraying a hint of suspicion. 

Five began to respond, only to be quickly cut off by your assertive interruption, demanding transparency. "And don't give me any of this 'It's none of your business' crap, all right?"

"Well, it's a long story," Five began tentatively, a note of caution in his voice, sensing the weight of the revelations about to unfold.

Luther, ever the attentive listener, fixed his gaze on Five, silently urging him to continue. 

Observing your silent agreement through a shrug, Five took a deep breath and proceeded to recount the intricacies of the situation as best he could, each word heavy with the burden of the truth that needed to be shared.

~~~

"So, you were a hit man?" Luther repeats slowly, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and curiosity.

"Yes," Five responds shortly, his tone carrying the weight of his dark past.

"Uh... I mean, you had a code, right?" Luther hoped desperately for some sense of morality in Five's actions. "You didn't kill just anybody."

"No code." Five's admission is tinged with a hint of haunting regret, his eyes betraying the weight of his decisions as he looks down. 

You notice the solemn expression on his face, a silent testimony to the burden he carries. "We took out anyone who messed with the timeline."

"What about innocent people?" Luther's concern is palpable as he seeks to understand the extent of Five's moral compromise.

Five takes a moment to consider his response, the gravity of his past choices evident in his contemplative silence. 

"It was the only way I could get back here," he finally offers, a glimpse into the complexities of a life overshadowed by necessity and sacrifice.

"But that's murder," Luther's voice is laced with a mix of judgment and sorrow, grappling with the harsh reality of Five's actions and their moral implications.

You found yourself shaking your head in a mixture of frustration and disbelief as you swiftly cut Five off before he even had the chance to utter a single word. 

"Jesus, Luther, grow up!" you exclaimed tensely, the irritation evident in your tone, effectively silencing the two boys in front of you. 

Your words carried a stern edge as you continued, emphasizing the urgency of the situation. 

"You're not a kid anymore, stop trying to live out your good guy bad guy fantasy," you scolded, a sense of exasperation coloring your words. 

The weight of your statement hung in the air, prompting Luther to cast his gaze downwards, a mix of guilt and contemplation evident in his demeanor.

With a hint of resignation, you raised a valid question, challenging both Luther and yourself: "We all have a little evil in us, do we not?" 

The lack of response from Luther only reinforced your point, causing you to nod in silent acknowledgment. A surprising interjection from Five then drew your attention, his unexpected words breaking the heavy atmosphere. 

"She's right," Five began, causing a flicker of astonishment to cross your features as you exchanged a bewildered glance with Luther. 

His subsequent words held a weight of truth, resonating within the confines of the room. 

"There's just people, going about their lives doing whatever they want. But when the world ends, all those people die, including our family." Five pauses. "Time changes everything."

As his statement settled in, lingering in the room like an unspoken truth, you let out a resigned sigh, your gaze sweeping across the space before decisively rising from your seat. 

Without pausing to wait for Five, you made your way towards the door, a mix of emotions swirling within you.

~~~ 

Third pov

~~~

Five, still reeling from y/n's abrupt departure, rose from his seat with a perplexed expression, remembering to grasp Dolores and the duffle bag before following in her footsteps. 

Luther, ever observant, inquired about their destination. "Where are you guys heading now?" he asked curiously. 

Five shrugged, his gaze fixated on the space y/n had vacated. 

"I don't know, I'm hoping to come up with something once I catch up to Sp- y/n." he admitted, his mind racing to concoct a plan once he caught up with her. 

Almost slipping up by mentioning y/n's affectionate nickname, he caught himself mid-word, wary of revealing too much. 

Luther, noting the slip, gave a knowing smile. Intrigued, he probed further, questioning Five about his feelings towards y/n. "Do you like her?"

Caught off guard, Five paused in his tracks, his eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected query. 

"Like who?" he attempted to deflect, hoping to evade Luther's interrogation. 

However, Luther persisted, pointing out Five's earlier compliment, insinuating a deeper sentiment. "You called her pretty, that has to mean something right?"

An exasperated groan escaped Five as he defended himself, attributing his previous actions to inebriation. 

"Drop it," he urged, dismissing any romantic notions, "We're barely friends, and that was just the alcohol talking." 

Despite his protestations, an underlying curiosity lingered in Five's mind as he pondered the implications of Luther's perceptive observations.

"You're not denying it," Luther chuckles, his eyes glinting mischievously as he teases Five. 

"Because there's nothing to deny," Five retorts, his tone tinged with both amusement and confidence.

Luther gestures subtly towards the door, hinting at the urgency of the situation. 

"She's not one to wait; I'd go before you lose her," he advises Five with a knowing look, emphasizing the importance of acting swiftly.

Understanding the implication, Five nods in agreement, his movements controlled yet determined. 

He gets outside rather quickly, and sees y/n sitting on a bench with her hand in a plastic bag, grabbing something out of it and putting it in her mouth. 

"Shit!" Fives' eyes widen with concern, and without hesitation, he rushes over to her side.

"Spit that out!" he exclaims urgently, catching her off guard as she visibly swallows whatever was in her mouth. 

"When the fuck did you get here?" she questions, a plastic bag casually resting on her lap as she looks puzzled.

Five, clearly stressed, ignores her inquiry and persists, "What was that?" Her eyes meet his, and she simply shrugs, adding an air of mystery to the situation.

"Who cares what it is, the world's ending!" she exclaims loudly, rising from the bench with her arms raised in disbelief, the plastic bag slipping from her lap to the ground, drawing curious gazes from passersby. 

I mean, who wouldn't stare in this bizarre scenario?

There was a boy in a neatly pressed school uniform walking by, carrying a mannequin's torso under his arm, and a girl trailing behind him with a bag filled with an assortment of brightly colored pills, both seemingly caught up in the hysteria of the impending apocalypse. 

The unusual sight only added to the surreal atmosphere that Five and y/n found themselves in, a peculiar mix of chaos and confusion that seemed to be unfolding before their very eyes.

"What if it kills you?!" Five asks frantically, his eyes widening with fear as he swiftly removes the bag from the ground and hurls it into the street, where it meets a tragic fate under the wheels of a passing car.

y/n gasps audibly, her shock turning into fury as she shoots a piercing glare at Five. 

"Those were my drugs, you dick!" she hollers at him, her voice tinged with a mixture of anger and disbelief, but Five's nonchalant expression remains unchanged.

"Come on, y/n we don't have time for this, we have to get back to the academy. I have an idea." Five implores, the urgency evident in his voice as he gestures towards the direction of the academy. 

She stares at him and sighs, irritation evident in her eyes. 

"You're so annoying, you know that?" she questions, frustration lacing her tone, her hands finding refuge in her pockets.

"Alright, let's g-" Her words are abruptly halted by a sudden queasiness twisting in her stomach, causing her to clutch her hand over her mouth, her face contorting in discomfort while Five eyes her in confusion.

Recognizing the signs, Five puts the pieces together as she hurriedly locates a nearby trash bin, her body convulsing as she empties her stomach contents into it. 

He averts his gaze, giving her privacy until she straightens up, offering her a reassuring smile. 

"Okay, let’s go!" she declares cheerfully, her composure regaining as she recommences their journey towards the academy.

Relieved, Five silently registers, 'Well, at least she's not dead.' 

Sparing a glance at her retreating form, he follows her with cautious steps, his concern lingering despite her attempt to brush off the incident.

~~~

Second pov 

~~~

As you and Five made your way back to the academy, the journey seemed longer than expected. 

You had stopped multiple times along the corridor, stopping each passerby to inquire if they had any gum to spare. 

Eventually, your persistence paid off when a kind soul handed you a piece.

The memory of the wasted pills lingered in your mind, leaving you feeling frustrated and annoyed.

Five glanced back at you, noticing your slow progress up the stairs compared to his hurried pace. "Come on, y/n, we're running out of time," he urged.

In response, you quipped, "Go sit on a dick." not budging from your leisurely ascent.

His exasperated sigh signaled his departure into Klaus' room, sparking your curiosity. 

Perplexed by the sudden development, you tilted your head in confusion, only to catch traces of conversation emanating from the room. 

With a sense of urgency, you hastened your steps towards Klaus' room, eager to unravel the mystery unfolding within.

As you stepped past the door frame, Klaus came into sight, his presence exuding weariness as evidenced by the dog tags and tattoo etched onto his skin. 

You let out a quiet sigh, asuming Klaus had found a briefcase. 

Walking over to join Five beside Klaus, you couldn't help but be concerned for his well-being.

"Are you alright, Klaus?" you inquired, your tone filled with genuine care.

Weakly smiling back at you, Klaus greeted you with a nickname, "Hey, Sparks," his eyes betraying the deep sadness within. 

Downplaying the situation, he mentioned, "It's been a long night."

Five interjected with a chuckle, causing you to hit his arm. 

Recovering quickly, he remarked, "Looks like you've been through more than one night, Klaus."

Quietly, Klaus admitted, "Yeah, I don't recall the dog tags." Five, ever observant, pointed out the jingling dog tags, to which Klaus responded uncomfortably, "They belonged to a friend." 

The melancholic sound of the dog tags reverberated through the room as Klaus shifted his position.

"How about that new tattoo?" Five asks, as you instinctively push him away, prompting him to reach out again, a mischievous glint in his eye as he goads you to strike him once more, which earns you a sharp glare in return.

"You know, I don't totally remember even getting it. Like I said, it was a long night." Klaus chuckles, his voice louder this time to mask his inner turmoil.

"You did it, didn't you?" Five probes, noticing your reluctance to delve into the topic.

'Why can't Five see that this isn't something Klaus wants to discuss?' you wonder to yourself.

"What are you talking about?" Klaus feigns innocence, trying to divert the conversation away from his tattoo.

"You know, I can recognize the symptoms, Klaus." Five asserts, his tone revealing his certainty.

"Symptoms of what?" Klaus looks to you, you shrugging and mouthing a quick 'sorry' to him. 

"The jet lag. Full body itch." Klaus sighs at Five words. "Headache that feels like someone shoved a box of cotton up into your nose and through your brain." you shiver at the thought.

It took you a considerable amount of time to grow accustomed to the unfamiliar sensation coursing through your veins. 

Despite the numerous cherished recollections you held dear of your time at the commission, they were overshadowed by a multitude of darker memories that clung persistently to your mind, haunting you with their unwelcome presence, making you yearn to erase their existence from your consciousness.

Whenever a throbbing headache tormented you, your instinct guided you to request the soothing relief of medication. 

However, a starkly contrasting reality materialized when you dared to seek out anything beyond the offerings provided by your overseers - met with swift retribution in the form of physical punishment and additional labor bestowed upon you as a harsh reminder of your place within the confines of the system. 

These instances served as poignant lessons reinforcing the established power dynamics and the consequences of stepping outside the prescribed boundaries.

In the midst of such contrasting experiences, the intertwined moments of comfort and cruelty left an indelible mark on your psyche, dictating a delicate balance between fleeting instances of solace and enduring scenes of suffering. 

"You gonna tell me about it?"

Klaus, overcome with a mixture of regret and disbelief, sighs heavily in response to Five's persistent questioning. 

"Your pals, when they broke into the house and they couldn't find you, they took me hostage instead."  he begins, his voice tinged with a hint of bitterness. 

"And in return, you stole their briefcase." Five guesses confidently.

Klaus nods. "Yeah." you put your hands in your pockets. "I thought there was money in it, or I could pawn it, you know, whatever. And then I opened it." he sighs shrugging to himself.

"And the next thing you knew, you were... where?" Five asks, then goes to correct himself. "Or should I say when?"

"What difference does it make?" says Klaus carelessly.

Five scoffs at him. "What diff- uhm- Okay, how long were you gone?" Five rephrases.

"Almost a year," Klaus says, his tone laced with an air of finality that makes you gasp softly, a sick feeling gnawing at your stomach as you contemplate the implications of his words. 

"A year?" Five starts, his voice tinged with a sense of urgency. "Do you know what this means?" 

Klaus chuckles dismissively, trying to lighten the mood with his typical humor. 

"Yeah, I'm ten months closer to my senior discounts now," he quips, though the gravity of the situation is not lost on him entirely.

"No, this isn't any sort of joke, Klaus." Five retorts sharply, his frustration evident as he shoots you a warning glance before redirecting his attention back to Klaus.

"Damn it-" Five groans as you deliver a stomp to his foot. 

The tension in the room palpable, your discomforting realization sinking in with each passing second.

After a brief pause to collect his thoughts, Five takes a deep breath, his gaze fixed firmly on Klaus as he prepares to address the weighty revelation that has just been laid bare before them.

"Hazel and Cha-Cha will do whatever they can to get the briefcase," he starts carefully, his voice laced with caution borne out of an experience of past abuse at the hands of the two. 

"Where is it now?" he queries, seeking clarity amid the chaos.

"Gone. I destroyed it," Klaus responds impulsively, giving little thought to the consequences of his actions. 

"Poof," he adds, mimicking an explosion with theatrical hand gestures, showcasing his typical disregard for seriousness.

"What the hell were you thinking, you moron?" Five exclaims incredulously, his tone filled with a mix of disbelief and frustration. 

You involuntarily make a move towards him, met with a firm interception as he catches your hand, signifying a boundary with a single look that conveys a clear message.

"What do you care?" Klaus questions, his confusion at Five's sudden outburst evident in his expression.

"What do I care? I needed it so I could get back," Five tells him. 

You interject by scolding Five for calling Klaus a moron, but he simply ignores your words. 

"I could start over," he says nonchalantly, pondering the idea of beginning anew.

Feeling the tension rising, Klaus starts walking out of the room, displaying complete indifference towards Five's continuing provocations. 

"Where are you going?" Five's puzzled voice follows him as he exits the room, seeking solitude from the brewing conflict.

"Interrogations over, just... leave," Klaus responds slowly, his voice tinged with a hint of weariness as he disappears from view. 

You watch him leave, feeling a mix of concern and frustration towards the situation unfolding. 

Turning your attention back to Five, you shoot a disapproving glare in his direction.

"What did I do now?" Five asks, as if he expected you to be mad. Feeling the frustration building up inside, you couldn't help but snap at him, questioning his actions. 

"What did you do? He obviously didn't want to talk about it, and you were pushing him anyway!" The tension in the room thickened as you confronted him.

His initial reaction was one of defiance, scoffing at your words before taking hold of your wrist to guide you out of the room. 

"We don't have time for this; he'll be fine," he reassured you, his voice tinged with urgency. 

However, you were far from convinced, unwilling to simply dismiss the situation as lightly as he seemed to be doing.

A sharp pain sliced through you as you involuntarily yanked your arm back from his grip, a wince escaping your lips as you realized it was your bad arm now throbbing with discomfort. 

Five's expression quickly shifted from annoyance to genuine concern as he gently took hold of your hand, leading you with a silent understanding towards his room.

Once inside the sanctuary of his room, he carefully seated you on the edge of his bed next to Dolores, his plastic companion. 

Delving into the drawers, he retrieved alcohol, cotton swabs, and a bandage complete with needle and thread, preparing the necessary supplies to tend to your wound with meticulous care.

You raise an eyebrow, your gaze shifting towards him once he settles down beside you. 

With a mix of surprise and curiosity in your expression, you begin to voice your concern, "You don't have to-"

However, your attempt to assuage any feelings of guilt is promptly intercepted by Five, who firmly interjects, "No, it's my fault your stitches ripped." 

Pausing for a moment, he then takes charge with a nonchalant shrug, "Might as well fix them for you," emphasizing a sense of duty and responsibility.

Prompted by his directive, you reluctantly comply as he instructs you to remove your jacket. 

Despite feeling a bit self-conscious in your attire - still clad in the t-shirt from the funeral due to the lack of opportunity for a wardrobe change - you oblige, revealing the blood-drenched bandage on your left arm.

Nodding in understanding at the sight, Five begins unraveling the stained bandage with a focused expression. 

The atmosphere shifts slightly as he poses a sudden question, "You said 'everyone has a little evil in them,' what did you mean by that?" 

This unexpected inquiry causes you to pause, a thoughtful expression crossing your face as you contemplate your response to his probing question.

"Everybody has done something terrible. No matter how severe it is, take you and me for example," you gesture between the two of you as Five throws away the bloodied bandage. "We've killed people."

As the weight of your words settled in the air, a dark veil of silence draped over the room. Five's resolute expression softened, a glint of vulnerability surfacing in his eyes. 

"But I didn't enjoy it. I did it to get back to my family," he counters quietly, his voice tinged with a raw honesty that echoed through the room.

Lost in your thoughts, you struggled to find the right words, grappling with the tangled web of emotions stirring within you. 

"..You didn't enjoy it either.. did you?" Five's skeptical inquiry hung in the air, a poignant reminder of the shared burdens you both carried.

Your silence spoke volumes, a poignant admission that reverberated between the two of you. 

In that moment, a profound understanding flickered in Five's eyes, a silent acknowledgment passing unspoken yet deeply felt.

"You know, I still can't figure you out." Five's voice broke the heavy silence, the sound of cotton swab against skin filling the void. 

With a furrowed brow, you meet his gaze, an unspoken question lingering in the charged atmosphere

"When I found my siblings' bodies, yours was there too," Five's voice carried a weight of uncertainty, a ghost of suspicion dancing in his words. 

"I didn't know if you were helping them or trying to kill them, all I knew is that you were 'property of the commission'," he quotes, his gaze lingering on the tattoo of the four words and a barcode you concealed with a protective hand, a tangible reminder of a past shrouded in shadows.

"That's part of the reason I took you with me, I had to know if you were a threat," he stated firmly, my gaze intense as he sought the truth in your eyes.

"What's the other reason?" you query, a note of skepticism creeping into your tone. 

Yet, silence greets your inquiry, the unspoken answer hanging heavily between you.

As you wince from the sting of the alcohol on your wound, he can't help but feel a pang of guilt for subjecting you to this discomfort.

"Sorry," he murmurs, his voice tinged with regret as he pauses momentarily before continuing. 

"Why'd you enjoy it?" He asks, his curiosity piqued by your seemingly contradictory reaction to the situation at hand. 

"I only told you the funny stories back in the van, I've never told a soul about anything else," you confess, a mixture of vulnerability and defiance evident in your words. 

The weight of your unshared truths hangs heavily in the air, a burden you carry alone, shielded from the judgment of others who could never truly comprehend. "They could never understand."

"I could" Five said without hesitating. He dabs around your wound carefully. 

"If you want to tell me I'll listen." he rephrases, making you look at him in surprise.

Five finishes cleaning the bullet hole in your shoulder and starts threading a needle, his hands moving with precision and care. 

Despite the discomfort of the needle piercing your skin, you bravely endure and maintain eye contact with Five, appreciating his steady presence in the tense moment.

"When you were at the commission, did you ever hear of anyone by the alias 'Electra'?" you inquire in a rush.

Five's focused expression softens as he recalls the elusive figure of Electra, his movements measured as he continues to perform the delicate task of stitching your wound. 

"She had quite the reputation at the commission. Stories went around of her cruel methods, reveling in the agony of her victims. It was as if inflicting pain brought her a twisted sense of satisfaction," Five recounts.

Your jaw tightens, emotions bubbling to the surface as memories resurface, and tears threaten to spill over. 

"But then she vanished, escaping into a new existence, forging unexpected bonds that transformed into something akin to a chosen family," Five muses, his words inviting reflection. 

Your gaze widens, absorbing the layers of this revelation and contemplating the enigmatic figure that is.. well, you.

"She's not really a bad person but she can't seem to see that." He finishes the stitches, cutting off the extra thread and tying it off with delicate precision as he attends to your wound.

"In fact, as I look up, there she is, sitting in front of me right now," he says in a calm yet slightly cocky tone.

"You knew?" you ask quietly, your voice barely above a whisper, the mixture of emotions evident in your tone as you struggle to process the unexpected revelation. 

Observing the subtle nod from Five, you feel a mixture of relief and apprehension wash over you, unsure of how to navigate this newfound knowledge. 

Despite this internal turmoil, Five skillfully wraps the bandage around your arm, a reassuring touch that provides a sense of comfort in the midst of emotional turbulence.

"Why are you helping me if you knew who I was the whole time?" you ask, breath shaking, the mix of emotions evident in your voice as you glance at him, searching for any signs of deception or ulterior motives.

"You haven't given me a single reason not to trust you so far," he begins, his tone gentle and reassuring, a subtle hint of understanding in his eyes as he carefully finishes tying off the bandage, a gesture that speaks volumes about his genuine concern for your well-being. 

"I knew exactly who you were from the moment you used your powers," he adds, his voice carrying a sense of certainty and acknowledgment that goes beyond mere recognition.-

"I didn't know I was so famous," you joked, feeling better about the situation, a light chuckle escaping your lips in the midst of unexpected realization. 

"I was kept away from everyone, I only ever spoke to my caretakers and The Handler," you calmly explained, a wistful sense of isolation lingering in your words as memories of solitude resurfaced.

Five sighed, the sound holding a mix of amusement and understanding that you couldn't help but notice, a fleeting ghost of a smile playing on his lips. 

As you rubbed the unshed tears out of your eyes, a sense of gratitude washed over you in waves, prompting you to pick up your jacket and cradle it gently in your lap, finding comfort in its familiar presence.

"Thank you," you began, the words heavy with appreciation and sincerity as you mustered the courage to express your feelings. 

"For everything," you finished quietly, the weight of your emotions palpable as you absently fidgeted with the rehab bracelet still adorning your wrist.

In response, Five offered you a lopsided grin, his eyes reflecting a depth of shared experiences and unspoken connections. 

"'s no problem," he replied casually, the simplicity of his words carrying a profound reassurance that transcended the conversation, grounding you in a moment of mutual understanding and support.

~~~

A/N : yay character development ig 

word count : 6228

[80pairsofcrocs]

I have been waiting all year to post this.

[80pairsofcrocs]

spacial sparks || 7

Chapter warnings - underage(?) drinking, mention of rehab and drug use, knife, explosion, mention of stitches, let me know if i missed anything.

~~~

Second pov

~~~

Five, with a firm grip on your arm, swiftly propelled both of you into Lance's car using his spatial jumping ability. 

The sudden appearance left Lance startled, exclaiming, "Oh, Jesus!" as he found you falling into the back seat beside his peaceful dog. 

Without hesitation, Five held a knife to Lance's throat, his gaze intense with determination. Meanwhile, you found solace in petting the dog, embracing the calm moment amidst the tension.

"You have one chance, tell me what you know." Five demanded, his voice laced with a menacing edge. 

The knife pressed against Lance's neck, a subtle threat without breaking the skin. 

In the back seat, you were captivated by the little dog now settled on your lap, emanating a surprising tranquility.

"I-I manufacture prosthetic devices for fake patients." Lance stuttered out an explanation, revealing his illicit activities of manufacturing prosthetic devices for fake patients and engaging in insurance fraud. 

"I bill the insurance companies and then sell them for cash on the black market."

Delving deeper into the unsettling revelations, Five's interrogation intensified, focusing on the illegal trade of body parts. "Including eyeballs?"

"Yeah, they're my biggest seller," Lance starts, feeling a surge of pride as he elaborates on the popularity of his products. 

His confidence grows, becoming more apparent as he recounts the brisk sales of his items, likening them to hotcakes flying off the shelves. 

"I mean, they sell like hotcakes. I-I've got a list, a waiting list, probably 20 buyers," Lance continues, emphasizing the high demand for his merchandise.

Upon hearing this, you become more attentive, setting the dog down gently and adjusting your position to focus better on the conversation. 

Despite the discomfort in your shoulder, you lean forward, eager to learn more about the business dealings unfolding before you.

"So, the serial number I told you- Uh, could've already been bought. Yes, off... off the books," Lance concludes, hinting at a potential shadowy side to his transactions.

Observing Five's visible irritation, you notice his urgency as he demands the crucial information from Lance. "I needed that list, Lance. Names and numbers, and I need it now!" Five's frustration boils over, as he presses Lance for the vital details.

Remaining calm in the midst of the tense exchange, Lance maintains his innocence, explaining, "I don't have it. I mean, not on me. The only copy's in my safe at the lab."

With Five seemingly satisfied with Lance's response, he turns to you for a silent confirmation of his decision. You respond with a nonchalant shrug, adjusting your clothing absentmindedly, signaling your agreement with Five's course of action.

"Well, start the car, then. 'Cause we're going on a field trip."

As Lance smoothly started the car and steered it onto the road, you settled into the comforting hum of the engine. 

The first few moments of the journey passed in a comfortable silence, granting you a moment of respite from the turmoil swirling within you. 

Five's occasional furtive glances caught in the reflection of the rearview mirror did not go unnoticed by your keen eyes. 

It seemed as though his attempts at stealth were more for his own reassurance than anything else, perhaps a subtle way of confirming your presence and well-being during the journey.

You couldn't help but speculate on the motives behind Five's subtle surveillance, wondering if it stemmed from genuine concern or merely a habit born out of his cautious nature. 

Despite the quiet tension that lingered in the enclosed space, you found solace in the familiar routine of the journey, a temporary reprieve from the uncertainties waiting beyond the horizon.

~~~

After about another 5 minutes of driving, you and Five had rushed out of the car after seeing the building on fire right as the car stopped. 

As you gasped lightly and frowned up at the burning building, unable to initially spot Five drawing near to the flames, a sudden explosion swept over you as the heat pushed you both back, causing a rough landing on the unforgiving concrete.

In a bewildered daze, you attempted to rise, finding yourself sprawled on your left side amidst the scattered debris, a sharp pang shooting through your body as your arm strained against reopened stitches. 

Concern etched on your face, you searched for Five, only to discover him on the ground fixated on the fiery spectacle, his expression conveying a sense of resignation. 

With a weary sigh, you mustered the strength to hoist yourself up, nearly stumbling from sheer fatigue.

Assisting Five to his feet, the weight of his despondent gaze lingered, his focus still captured by the consuming flames. 

"Five, come on," you urged, shouldering most of the physical effort, while his gaze remained fixated on the inferno, a silent conversation unfolding between him and the engulfed building. 

He finally tore his eyes away from the blaze to inquire, "Are you okay?" 

A moment of shared vulnerability sliced through the chaos, solidifying your unspoken bond amidst the chaos unfolding around you.

You tilt your head in confusion, a puzzled expression evident on your face as you try to make sense of the situation before you.

 "Yeah, I suppose I'm alright, but really, what about you?" you begin, your voice tinged with concern. "You were much closer to the explosion than I was."

Looking somewhat incredulous, he questions you further, a hint of skepticism lacing his words as he starts to distance himself slightly, prompting you to keep pace. "I was just knocked on my ass, are you telling me the truth?"

As you roll your eyes, a touch of exasperation coloring your features, you hasten your steps to catch up and clarify, "I may have felt my stitches pop, but I'm holding up fine."

His eyes flicker briefly to your injured shoulder, silently assessing the damage, before returning to meet your gaze. 

"You better not be lying to me. If you happen to pass out again, I'm just going to walk away." he warns, a playful glint in his eyes belying his serious tone.

In response, you offer a wry smile, finding his attempt at reassurance somewhat amusing. 

"How comforting," you murmur to yourself, a hint of sarcasm in your tone, causing Five to scoff beside you, a silent gesture that signals his return to focus, leaving the conversation behind.

~~~

You and Five eventually made your way back to the van to retrieve your belongings before setting out once more. 

While the two of you journeyed, not much conversation occurred apart from the occasional sighs and yawns that punctuated the silence.

As you now find yourselves in the library, the atmosphere is filled with the sound of Five fervently jotting down equations on the walls. 

The bottles of liquor brought along are noticeably depleted, each about a fourth consumed. Dolores is seen peeking out from Five's now otherwise empty bag.

Leaning against the wall next to Five, you observe as he mutter curses while writing. 

Feeling fatigued, you indulge in a swig of tequila you took without hesitation, feeling the burning sensation linger in your throat.

Glancing over at Five, who leans against the wall beside you while sipping vodka and emitting a sigh, you begin to fidget with the bottle in your hand, nervously biting your lips.

Unexpectedly, you confess, "I burned a hole in your painting." 

Five halts in his writing, turning to you with a look of bewilderment.

"That was you?" he asks, putting the chalk down. 

"I'm sorry" you apologize, looking down to your lap where your tequila lays, feeling the alcohol in your system. 

An awkward silence lingered between you and Five as his gaze locked on you, waiting for an explanation. 

Feeling the weight of the moment, you confessed, "I don't know honestly. I guess I just got tired of your dumb face." 

Each word slurred slightly, betraying the effect of the alcohol coursing through your veins. 

Five, taken aback, pivoted to face you completely, his tone a mix of hurt and incredulity as he questioned, "Why?" 

You took another sip from your bottle, gathering your thoughts before letting out a half-hearted insult, "Because you're kind of a bitch." 

Five's expression hardened, offense written all over his face. 

Standing his ground, he retorted, "Excuse me? My face isn't dumb, and I’m not a bitch- If anyone's face is dumb, it's yours." The tension between you two crackled with unspoken words and unmet expectations.

"Well, you're and Idiot"

"You're an Ass hat"

"Junkie"

"Boomer"

"Punk"

"Jerk"

"Dumbass"

"Shorty"

"I'm not even that short," Five paused for a moment, then his eyes widened as if a light bulb went off in his mind. 

"You're shorter than me!" he exclaimed in sudden realization, pointing at you.

"Well, yeah, but you're still short," you replied jokingly, a mischievous glint in your eye.

"No, I'm not," Five stated firmly, taking another swig of his vodka as if to emphasize his point.

You shook your head, chuckling, and took a sip of your own drink. "Yeah, well, at least I don't talk to dolls," you teased, a competitive edge in your voice.

His eyebrows shot up as he processed your comment. "Oh, you did not just go there," Five said with surprise, leaning in closer to you so that your shoulders were nearly touching.

A smirk played on your lips as you maintained eye contact with him. 

"Oh, I did just go there," you retorted, a hint of sarcasm in your voice, eliciting a short chuckle from him in response.

"Well, I'll have you know that she doesn't like you very much," Five stated matter-of-factly, leaning back to finish off his drink. 

He blinked slowly at you, a teasing glint in his eye as he tried to keep a poker face.

You roll your eyes and quickly finish the remaining tequila in your glass, feeling the burning warmth slide down your throat once again. 

With a deep, steadying breath, you address the tension in the room by stating, "She doesn't like me because you don't like me," in defense of yourself.

A soft, barely audible response comes from Five, "I don't not like you." 

Those words, though subtle, manage to make you pause and a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips in response.

Satisfied by this tiny moment of reassurance from Five, you settle back, your mind starting to cloud from the effects of the alcohol. 

Each passing moment brings a heavier weight to your eyelids, and a sudden fatigue takes hold of you, pulling you deeper into drowsiness.

Before you can fully grasp the situation, the weariness consumes you, and you drift off once more into the realm of sleep.

~~~

Third pov 

~~~

Five was still awake when y/n fell asleep, he was about to tell her something when he noticed her slowed breaths and still figure, no longer fidgeting with anything. 

Despite his own weariness, he felt a sense of responsibility towards her well-being, prompting him to stay alert even as exhaustion tugged at his eyelids.

As much as he wouldn't want to admit it to himself, he was tired too, but right after he closed his eyes he felt something press onto his shoulder, making him jump and open his eyes again. 

Surprised by the unexpected touch on his shoulder, Five's senses immediately snapped back into focus, his initial drowsiness dissipating in an instant. 

His heart raced momentarily as he scanned the dimly lit room, searching for the source of the contact that had jolted him awake.

When Five looked to the source, all he saw was y/n leaned up against him. 

The sight of the girl resting against him, her delicate form a stark contrast to the chaos that often enveloped their lives, evoked a sense of protectiveness within Five.

Five could tell that her arm was still sore by the way she didn't move it much, but since she fell asleep, it was pressing on Five. 

The subtle signs of discomfort that y/n exhibited, though unspoken, spoke volumes to Five. 

His keen observation of her well-being underscored the bond of care and concern that had developed between them, transcending verbal communication.

He knew she would be complaining about it in the morning- or whenever she woke up. 

Anticipating y/n's inevitable grievances upon awakening, Five mentally prepared himself for the teasing complaints and playful banter that often punctuated their interactions. 

The prospect of her animated protests brought a faint smile to his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the familiarity and comfort that her presence brought to his tumultuous existence.

He looked around to see if anyone was watching them, and there wasn't so he carefully positioned her on top of him so that her shoulder was free of anything that could touch it. 

Casting a cautious glance around their surroundings, Five ensured that their vulnerable position went unnoticed by any prying eyes. 

With deliberate care, he repositioned y/n to shield her from any potential discomfort, his actions guided by an instinctive need to shield her from harm, physical or otherwise. 

The tender consideration he displayed in that fleeting moment spoke volumes about the depth of his unspoken commitment to her well-being.

He wrapped an arm around her to keep her from falling, while the other arm was around Dolores and the empty bottles of alcohol scattered around them. 

After Five was completely relaxed, he fell asleep with his head resting on y/n's, not caring what was happening around them at the moment. 

Succumbing to the soothing lull of slumber, Five allowed his exhaustion to finally claim him, his tension melting away as he nestled closer to y/n. 

The rhythmic cadence of her breathing served as a gentle lullaby, coaxing him into a restful repose despite the uncertainties that loomed on the horizon. 

But little did they know that Number one and Number two were out looking for them. 

And unbeknownst to the slumbering pair, the figures of passerbys eyes them with discontent.

~~~

As Diego and Luther turned the corner, a sense of disbelief washed over them as they witnessed the teenagers sprawled out on the floor. 

"Where are their parents?" a concerned lady asked, her gaze shifting between the slumbering kids. 

The sight before them prompted Diego to remark on how surprisingly easy it was to come across this chaotic scene.

In the midst of the commotion, another voice in the background suggested calling security as Luther and Diego approached the sleeping group. 

Luther, noticing the telltale signs, tentatively pointed out, "Are they, um...?" 

Diego, with a knowing nod, confirmed, "Drunk as skunks," expressing disappointment at y/n's broken promise to steer clear of such behavior.

"Damn it," Diego muttered in frustration, his voice laced with disappointment. 

Slowly shaking his head, he continued, "Y/N promised she'd stop this." 

Observing the rehab bracelet snug on her wrist, Luther chimed in with a hint of skepticism, "And you keep believing her? She's not much better than Klaus." 

Ignoring the pointed look from Diego, Luther swiftly made plans, asserting, "I'll handle Y/N; you get Five and, uh, the mannequin as well." 

Taking charge, Luther swiftly moved to lift Five from y/n's side, Diego doing the same.

~~~

As the four of them continued their journey down the sidewalk, it was evident that a feeling of exhaustion still lingered over a couple of the group. 

Luther and Diego maintained their stride side by side, with Luther taking on the responsibility of carrying Five, who clutched Dolores, while Diego cradled y/n. 

The proximity between Luther and Diego was so close that anyone watching could anticipate a collision resulting in y/n and Five bumping heads.

"We can't risk going back to the house," Luther declared sternly, emphasizing the importance of security. "There's a possibility those psychopaths could return at any given moment."

Diego, looking up at Luther due to their height difference, proposed an alternative. "My place is closer," he suggested, reassuring the group that it would be a safe refuge. 

Nodding towards the now-awake boy who let out a small burp, Diego confirmed that no one would suspect his location.

Luther jokingly cautioned Five, "Don't even think about vomiting on me." 

Amused by the situation, Five chuckled before addressing a sudden realization. "You know what's funny?" he began, "I'm going through puberty. Again," he giggled to himself, scanning the surroundings for y/n. 

"Where's Sparky?" he queried, turning to Diego who was gently carrying the stirring girl.

Five reacted dramatically, adjusting his position to face y/n directly. 

Slowly opening her eyes, y/n emitted a groan, her hands instinctively covering her face before peering out to see Diego's expression. 

"I'm sorry, Diego," she offered in a slightly whiny tone, recognizing her momentary lapse.

Diego was having none of that. He could see the disappointment written all over y/n's face as she struggled to hold back tears. 

"What did I say? Tell me, what did I tell you y/n?" Diego asked her rhetorically, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and concern.

"You said no more drinking," y/n responded, her voice shaky and on the verge of breaking into sobs. 

Here's the thing about y/n, she was an emotional drunk. 

She wore her heart on her sleeve, teetering on the edge of a breakdown with every sip of alcohol she took. 

She could either erupt into a fit of rage, destroying everything in her path, or dissolve into tears over trivialities.

"And what did you do?" Diego queried once more, his gaze softening as he observed y/n's vulnerable state. 

"I drank," she admitted quietly, her eyes downcast in remorse.

"We drank that whole bottle, didn't we?" Five interjected into the somber conversation, his tone more contemplative than accusatory. 

If y/n hadn't been shedding tears before, the tremble in her breath suggested that she was on the brink. 

The weight of her actions that night and the consequences were crashing down on her.

"That's what you do when the world you love goes bye-bye." Five offered a cryptic insight, gesturing as if illustrating a sudden disappearance. 

"Poof, it's gone," he added, the motion of his hand mimicking an explosion, while ensuring Dolores remained steady in his other hand, a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil around them.

"I don't want the world to end while Diego's mad at me," y/n slurs out, wiping unfallen tears from her eyes, trying her hardest not to cry. 

Feeling overwhelmed with emotion, she struggled to contain her fear of losing Diego's approval amidst the chaos surrounding them. 

"I'm not mad at you," Diego reassured her softly, sensing her distress and attempting to comfort her. 

"Just worried," he added, his concern for her well-being evident in his voice.

Upon noticing y/n's quivering voice, Five's protective instincts kicked in, prompting him to defend her honor against Diego's unintentional insensitivity. 

"Stop making the pretty girl cry; she's been through enough," Five asserted firmly, his loyalty to y/n unwavering. 

Diego, surprised by Five's sudden outburst, exchanged a bewildered glance with Luther, silently questioning the dynamics at play.

In a bid to diffuse the tension, Luther diverted the conversation to a more pressing matter. 

"Two masked intruders attacked the Academy last night," he revealed, shifting the focus to the imminent threat they faced. 

Diego pieced together the puzzle, concluding, "They came looking for you," prompting a sense of urgency. 

Five confirmed Diego's deduction, disclosing, "Hazel and Cha-Cha," causing y/n to gasp in realization. Curiosity piqued, Diego glanced skeptically at Five, seeking more information.

Luther, somewhat exasperated by the secrecy surrounding the mission, expressed his disdain for code names, highlighting the inherent challenges in navigating the intricate web of intrigue surrounding Hazel and Cha-Cha's intentions.

"Ah, the best of the best," Five sarcastically declared, earning a mixed reaction from the adults in the room. 

"Except for me, of course," he couldn't resist adding, a hint of cockiness in his voice.

"Dick," y/n muttered under her breath, obviously offended by Five's boastful remark. 

Despite the attempt to keep the comment discreet, Five caught wind of it and couldn't help but scoff.

Luther, never one to miss an opportunity to question his siblings, inquired, "The best of what?"

Choosing to play coy, Five decided to ignore Luther's question, delving into a slightly unrelated thought. 

"You know, Dolores always said she hated it when I drink. She said it made me surly-" he started, only to be rudely interrupted by Diego. 

"Hey!"

Startled by the interruption, Five refocused his attention on Diego, who was now holding onto y/n. 

"Hm? Yeah?" Five responded, feigning innocence.

Diego wasted no time addressing the pressing matter at hand. "I need you to focus," he began, adjusting his grip on y/n. 

"What do Hazel and Cha-Cha want?" his tone turning stern in anticipation of an answer. To this, Five merely grinned to himself, enjoying the tension in the air.

"We just wanna protect you," the older man’s voice echoed, an unusual sincerity underlying his words.

"Protect me," Five scoffed, a hint of defiance in his voice. "I don't need your protection, Diego. Do you have any idea how many people I've killed?" he threw the question bluntly at Diego. 

Before he could continue down that line of thought, y/n took matters into their own hands, delivering a swift smack to Five's mouth.

Letting out a resigned groan, Five fell silent, realizing that perhaps it was time to choose his words more wisely.

"No," Diego answers his original question firmly, his brow furrowing with concern as he tries to make sense of the situation. 

"I'm the Four frickin' Horsemen," Five starts, his voice laced with a hint of madness that sends chills down everyone's spine. 

"The apocalypse is coming," he declares, his words punctuated by a loud belch before he awkwardly extricates himself from Luther's supportive embrace. 

With unsteady steps, Five staggers towards a nearby wall, where he leans over and empties his stomach with an audible retch.

Meanwhile, y/n, seemingly unfazed by the chaos unfolding around her, absentmindedly twirls one of the zippers on Diego's jacket between her fingers. 

Her mind seems preoccupied, lost in thought as she tunes out the alarming spectacle before her.

"Oh, Jesus," Diego mutters under his breath, his eyes widening with a mixture of disbelief and dread at the unfolding events. 

The gravity of the situation begins to sink in, and a sense of impending doom hangs heavy in the air as the once seemingly normal day takes a sharp turn into the bizarre and terrifying.

~~~

After the two inebriated teenagers were gently settled on the bed by Luther, y/n took the initiative to draw closer to Five, resting her head on his chest as he instinctively wrapped an arm around her shoulder, creating a sense of comfort and intimacy between them.

Diego, observing the scene, humorously remarked, "Funny, if I didn't know he was such a prick, I'd say he looks almost adorable in his sleep," prompting a scoff from Luther.

Curious about Diego's feelings towards y/n, Luther inquired, "When are you going to give up on her?" 

Diego shot back a determined look, stating firmly, "I'll give up when she's better." 

Frustrated by the apparent lack of regard for her well-being, Diego lamented, "No matter what we do, especially me, she shows no concern for her own life." He sank down onto the edge of the bed, a mix of worry and exasperation clouding his expression.

Anticipating their eventual sobriety, Luther reflected, "Well, they'll sober up eventually and return to their usual, unpleasant selves," acknowledging the temporary nature of their current vulnerable state, yet hoping for a positive change in their behavior once clarity resumed.

"Yeah, I can't wait that long," Diego exclaimed with a sense of urgency, his mind racing with thoughts of solving the mystery at hand. 

Ignoring Luther's comment entirely, he stood up abruptly and began to pace around the dimly lit room, the weight of the situation heavy on his shoulders. 

"I need to find out what his connection is with these lunatics before someone else dies," Diego muttered to himself, his jaw clenched in determination. 

"He started saying something about y/n," he paused, a frown forming on his face, "and I'd like to know what."

As Luther was about to speak up, curiosity evident in his expression, Diego held a finger to his lips, signaling for silence as they both strained to listen to the faint sounds coming from upstairs. 

The tension in the room was palpable as Diego retrieved a knife, preparing himself for a potential threat lurking nearby. 

However, before he could act, a stern voice halted his movements.

"You throw another one of those goddamn knives at me, I'm pressin' charges," the man's voice echoed through the crack in the door, prompting Diego to lower his weapon. 

Staring incredulously at the man now identified as Al, Diego questioned him sharply, his impatience thinly veiled. "What do you want, Al? I ain't your secretary."

Al, undeterred by Diego's brusque manner, then revealed the reason for his unexpected visit. "Some lady called for you, said she needs your help," he announced, causing Diego to tense visibly. 

Seeking more details, Diego pressed further, his voice tinged with caution. 

"What lady? I need more information," he demanded, his mind already racing to decipher the puzzle before him. 

Al struggled to recall the details, "I dunno. Some, uh, detective, I reckon. Her name was... Blotch or somethin'," he trailed off, glancing at Diego for any reaction. 

"Patch?" Al nods affirmatively. "She needs my help," he declares with urgency. Diego, sensing the gravity of the situation, swiftly strides towards the door.

"She needs you to meet her at that motel, a dump on Calhoun," Al explains, providing vital details. 

Diego absorbs the information, his mind already forming a plan. "When?" he inquires, eager to act promptly.

"About half an hour ago," the old man begins, his voice tinged with concern. "She mentioned finding your brother." 

Diego's brow furrows in confusion, his gaze shifting to Five, who holds onto y/n tightly. 

A sudden realization dawns on Luther.

"Klaus," he mutters, connecting the dots. Realizing the urgency of the situation, Luther gestures towards the 'sleeping' kids. 

"Go. I'll stay here with...them," he offers, displaying a rare moment of selflessness and determination to guard those under his care.

Diego left soon after Al, which left Luther to watch over Five and y/n.

"What happened to Klaus?" The voice made Luther jump, as he was staring into space. 

He turned to see y/n awake and clutching onto Fives blazer, her expression a mix of confusion and concern, her fingers tightly wrapped around the fabric as if seeking reassurance in the chaos that seemed to constantly surround the Hargreeves family.

Luther's heart twinged with empathy at the sight of y/n's distress. 

Knowing the impact Klaus's mysterious disappearance could have on her fragile emotional state, he took a deep breath before gently responding, "I don't know. Diego's going to find out okay?" His voice was soft, a soothing melody meant to calm the storm brewing within y/n's troubled mind.

 It was crucial to handle the situation delicately, as the slightest misstep could lead to her spiraling into a destructive outburst, a scenario Luther had witnessed previously when Klaus went missing.

With a barely audible whisper, y/n acknowledged his words, a tremor subtly present in her voice as she clung even tighter to the comforting familiarity of the blazer in her trembling grasp. 

The proximity to Five, a constant source of reliability in the midst of their turbulent lives, offered her a semblance of security in the uncertainty that clouded their reality.

Moments passed, each laden with unspoken worries and unexpressed fears, before exhaustion claimed y/n once more, her eyelids fluttering shut as she retreated back into the solace of sleep once again.

~~~

A/N : oops they tolerate each other

word count : 4702

[80pairsofcrocs]

spacial sparks || 6

Chapter warnings - bullet wound, underage(?) drinking, mention of murder, mention of stitches, electrocution, stealing, talking about backstory, you and five being nice to each other, let me know if i missed anything.

~~~

Third pov

~~~

After y/n had passed out due to blood loss, Luther gently cradled her limp form, his strong arms carrying her effortlessly up the stone stairs to the academy's quaint medical room that nestled amidst the bustling hallways. 

Grace, the wise and caring robot-mom she was, reassured Luther and the siblings that y/n's condition wasn't dire enough to warrant a transfusion. 

All y/n truly required were some meticulously placed stitches and a generous amount of time to rest and recover.

With a gentle touch, Grace skillfully tended to y/n's injuries, meticulously sewing up the wound on her arm after removing the bullet, while Luther and Allison remained close by, their watchful eyes silently conveying their concern and support. 

After ensuring that y/n was stable, Luther and Allison bid their temporary farewell, leaving the room with a sense of relief and unspoken assurance. 

Yet, Five, that enigmatic and protective figure, chose to linger by y/n's side, his stoic presence exuding an unspoken dedication and commitment to her well-being.

Despite his pride and stubbornness, even Five couldn't deny the invaluable assistance that y/n brought to their peculiar household. 

In his own peculiar way, he rationalized his unwavering loyalty to her by acknowledging that, in the chaotic sea of personalities that surrounded them, y/n possessed the distinct advantage of having that elusive, singular brain cell that none of the others seemed to possess. 

As he remained vigilant by her side, it became increasingly clear that his need for her assistance ran deeper than he cared to admit, his silent vigil a testament to the unspoken bond that tied them together.

Back in the present, Y/N had appeared good as new. 

However, she remained unconscious, leaving Five uncertain about when she might regain consciousness.

Five dedicated his time to staying by her side in the medical room, only stepping away briefly to retrieve essential items. 

Despite his undeniably anxious state, he settled back into the chair beside her bed, projecting an air of patience while awaiting her awakening.

Taking a moment to survey the room, Five couldn't help but observe a palpable lack of vitality, a feeling that seemed to permeate the entire house. Each time someone left, it was as if the light within dimmed, creating a somber atmosphere that weighed heavily on him.

Glancing back at Y/N, Five noticed a subtle twitch of her fingers, a small sign that brought the faintest hint of a smile to his lips before his expression returned to its usual stoic demeanor.

Y/N eventually stirred from her slumber in a rather dramatic fashion, her hands emitting sparks that caused the lights to flicker erratically as she sat up abruptly. 

Startled by her unfamiliar surroundings, she reacted instinctively, inadvertently triggering the electrical disturbance. 

Casting a bewildered gaze around the room, her eyes settled on Five, the sole presence in the room whose unwavering presence seemed to anchor her in that disorienting moment.

She had her hand clenched into a tight fist, the pressure building within her as she desperately tried to halt the fiery sparks that seemed to be emanating from her very being.

 Sensing her distress, Five gently yet hesitantly placed his hand over hers, a gesture that prompted her to turn her gaze towards him. 

His presence alone seemed to have a calming effect on her, the sparks gradually subsiding as she met his reassuring eyes.

As the tension dissipated, a wave of relief washed over Five's thoughts, grateful that his simple gesture had managed to soothe her. 

The silent exchange between y/n and Five lingered for what felt like an eternity, a moment suspended in time as they silently communicated through their eyes. 

Eventually, y/n broke the gaze, a hint of shyness coloring her cheeks, prompting Five to release her hand, breaking the intimate connection with an awkwardly timed clearing of his throat.

After a period of uneasy silence, Five's voice cut through the air, laden with a mix of concern and confusion. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought I'd be fine," y/n confessed to him, her expression tinged with genuine remorse. In the background, she could hear Five's subtle sigh, prompting her to rise from the bed.

"So, you alright enough to join me?" Five inquired with a half grin playing on his lips.

Responding with a faint laugh, y/n stood up as well. "When have I ever not been alright?" she retorted, a rhetorical question hanging in the air. 

Five began to offer a response before y/n interjected firmly, "Don't answer that." her pointed finger aimed at Five. 

Suppressing a laugh, he simply nodded in agreement, gesturing for her to trail behind him as they moved forward together.

~~~

Second pov

~~~

As you observed Five opening the window and adjusting his bag, preparing to make a daring escape through the window, you felt a sense of curiosity bubble up within you. 

"Why can't we just leave through the door?" you inquired, catching him off guard with your question before he could provide an answer. 

A slight chill swept into the room as the wind played through the open window, causing you to instinctively rub your hands together for warmth. 

"Believe me, this way involves less talking." Five reassured you cryptically, signaling that there was more to his plan than met the eye. 

Without further hesitation, he swiftly leaped down onto the fire escape without elaborating further, leaving you intrigued and slightly perplexed by his actions.

Your brow furrowed as you approached the window, peering out cautiously to see the drop below. 

Assessing the height, you muttered to yourself, 'It's not too high, I can do this.' With a resigned sigh, you steadied yourself and mustered the courage to follow Five's lead. 

Grasping onto the windowsill for support, you carefully maneuvered yourself onto the narrow fire escape, your heart racing with a mix of nervousness and determination. 

With a deep breath, you then gingerly navigated your way down to the waiting ladder below, all while pondering the enigmatic reasons behind Five's unconventional choice of exit.

"Why does it have to be so damn cold?" you mutter to yourself, the biting chill seeping into your bones as you survey the dreary surroundings.

As you ponder the frosty question in your mind, a sudden clamor from below catches your attention. 

"Damn it, where's Dad's stuff?" the voice echoes up, prompting you to turn around in search of the speaker, certain it wasn't the voice of Five.

Your eyes meet Five's gaze as he too looks up from his task, a trace of frustration evident on his features.

A sharp retort punctuates the air with its intensity, causing you to zero in on the source. It's Klaus, ensconced within a dumpster, his voice tinged with a mix of urgency and annoyance as he seemingly converses with the ethereal presence of Ben.

A pregnant pause follows before Klaus continues, his tone now a whisper laced with desperation, "I'm trying to find whatever priceless crap was in that priceless box so that Pogo will get off my ass!" 

His words resonate in the empty space beside him, the gravity of his mission palpable even within the confines of the garbage-filled enclosure.

"I'd ask what you're up to, Klaus, but then it occurred to me-" Five takes a second to think, his brow furrowed in contemplation. 

"I don't care," he finishes with a nonchalant shrug.

"Hey!! OH! Hi, y/nnnn!" Klaus exclaims with a mix of surprise and cheer, waving enthusiastically at you, who's now on the ground too, still clutching the ladder tightly as if it's a lifeline. 

"There are easier ways out of the house, kids," Klaus remarks with a touch of amusement, gesturing towards both you and Five with a playful twinkle in his eyes.

"This one involved the least amount of talking," Five begins with a hint of dry humor, as he rises from the ground and dusts off his clothes. 

"Or so I thought," he adds, his expression turning slightly rueful as he gazes down at the pavement.

With Five leading the way out of the alley, you follow at a bit of a distance, allowing a comfortable silence to settle between the three of you, punctuated only by the sound of footsteps echoing off the narrow brick walls.

"Hey, hey, hey, so..." Klaus sings out, catching the attention of the two of you as you turn to look at him. His voice carries a hint of uncertainty, "Do you need any more company today?" he begins, his words laced with a touch of eagerness. 

"I could... clear my schedule," he stutters out, his offer accompanied by a hesitant smile.

Observing Klaus fumbling for words, you reflexively tuck your freezing hands into your pockets and take a step closer to Five.

Not too close, though. Just enough to hear Klaus without straining. 

"You seem like you have your hands full." Five remarks to Klaus, diverting your attention back to the man rummaging through the trash.

Klaus shrugs off the implication. "Oh, this? No, no, I can do this whenever," he reassures, his eyes scanning the debris below him. 

You can't help but shake your head at his nonchalant attitude, a smile threatening to creep onto your face.

As Klaus teetered dangerously on the edge of the dumpster, a laughter bubbled out of you at his precarious balancing act. 

"I simply misplaced something," he muttered sheepishly amid his comical search in the garbage bin, before triumphantly exclaiming, "Ah-ha! Found it!" 

His relief was palpable as he proudly presented a moldy, half-eaten bagel. 

Shock and disgust mingled in your expression as you watched him take an enthusiastic bite, proclaiming it as delicious in a mix of horror and amazement.

Still in disbelief, your gaze lingered on Klaus, only to have Five surreptitiously nudge your chin upwards, playfully closing your agape mouth. 

Swiftly retaliating, you swatted his hand away, earning a smirk in return. "I'm done funding your drug habit," Five quipped at Klaus, signaling for you to follow as he briskly walked off.

"Come on! You don't-" Klaus thinks for a moment, contemplating his thoughts. "Maybe I just wanna hang out with my brother and my child," he tries to convince you and Five to return. 

"Not you, asshole-" he adds under his breath, acknowledging the empty space beside him as he watches you with a longing look. 

In response, you offer Klaus a reassuring half-smile before turning your attention back to continuing on with Five.

"¡Mi hermano! My sweet lovely y/n!" Klaus enthusiastically shouts after you and Five as you both exit the alleyway. "I love you guys!" he projects even louder, his voice filled with emotion and sincerity. "Even if you can't love yourselves!!" his words echo in the distance, leaving a bittersweet feeling in the air.

Feeling a pang of guilt, you let out a small sigh but decide to keep following Five, rationalizing that Klaus, with his quirky intuition, should be able to look after himself. 

Despite his eccentricities, you can't help but appreciate his unique perspective and dedication to his loved ones.

"Sparky, we're here," you hear Five say, breaking your train of thought as you observe him skillfully gaining entry into a van. 

Confusion tinges your voice as you inquire, "What?" unsure of what the sudden actions entail but trusting in Five's calculated decisions.

"Just get in and make yourself comfortable; we're going to be here for a while," he says, his impatience palpable as he waits for you to join him in the car. 

He had already positioned himself inside, gazing intently at you through the open window.

With a resigned sigh, you slide into the vehicle, silently hoping that this unforeseen delay wouldn't stretch on endlessly. 

The sound of the locks clicking into place brings your attention to Five, who appears lost in thought, his gaze fixed ahead as if grappling with a distant memory. 

Finally, he shrugs nonchalantly, a subtle gesture that communicates a sense of readiness, before turning the key in the ignition to bring the car to life.

As the journey unfolds, you peer outside, observing the ordinary activities of people going about their day, completely unaware of the impending doom that lingers ahead, set to unfold in just a week's time. 

The unsettling realization of this imminent catastrophe lingers in your mind, casting a shadow over the seemingly mundane scenes passing by.

Despite the weight of this grim awareness, you adopt a resigned acceptance, embodying a sense of indifference towards the world outside your temporary refuge in the car. 

With a simple 'oh well' echoing your thoughts, you resign yourself to the forthcoming events, navigating the present moment with a blend of detachment and grim anticipation.

~~~

It's a peaceful and serene ride that you thoroughly enjoyed, the quiet atmosphere creating a sense of calmness within you. 

Therefore, it was disheartening when Five abruptly stopped the vehicle in front of the doctor's office, causing a wave of sadness to wash over you. 

Your disappointment was evident as you sat there, a slight pout forming on your face while gazing out the window pensively.

"Oh shit," you hear Five mutter as he rummages through his bag. 

To your surprise, he pulls out the mannequin, which upon further inspection reveals a hidden bottle of vodka tucked inside.

Placing the mannequin in the space between you two, you can't help but stare at it, half-expecting it to come to life at any moment.

Five lets out a weary sigh and directs his attention to Dolores. "Sorry for keeping you in there for so long, Dolores," he offers, his voice laced with regret. 

Bewildered by the unfolding situation, you continue to scrutinize the peculiar doll.

"No, I'm not drunk," Five responds to an unheard inquiry, his statement prompting a scoff from you as you avert your gaze from the eerie mannequin, the discomfort of the situation still lingering in the air.

"I'm working," he uttered softly, the sound of pen scratching against paper filling the room. There was a brief pause, during which he shifted his focus momentarily. 

"Yes, it's about the eye thing," he continued, voice carrying a hint of intrigue. 

Another moment of silence followed before he spoke again, almost to himself. "This is the place it was made... Or will be made."

As the atmosphere hung heavy with anticipation, he simply stated, "We just have to wait." 

The lack of specificity in his words indicated he was addressing someone else, but you couldn't help but notice that his gaze had drifted away from the intended recipient and towards you instead.

Your curiosity piqued, you posed the question, "What?" 

His response was a gentle shake of the head, accompanied by a fleeting glance outside. 

"Nothing," he replied softly, his eyes meeting yours only briefly before both of you turned your attention outside, gazing in opposite directions, each lost in your own thoughts.

After about a minute of heavy silence filled with an unexpected sense of unease, you find yourself growing restless as you shift your gaze towards Five, fully expecting him to share in your growing boredom. 

However, to your surprise, Five's demeanor is far from what you anticipated. 

His breathing becomes noticeably shallow and erratic, his eyes fixed on an invisible point in the distance as if lost in another realm altogether.

Concern prickles at the edges of your mind, prompting you to call out his name in a soft yet urgent tone, hoping to break through the strange trance that seems to have enveloped him.

"Five..?" Despite your best efforts, there is no response from the boy.

Reacting swiftly, a surge of adrenaline courses through you as you act on instinct. 

"Five," you speak again, more firmly this time, as you carefully shift Dolores to the back of the van and maneuver yourself closer to your enigmatic companion. 

Pain shoots through your shoulder, a reminder of the tumultuous events that have led you to this moment, but you push it aside with determination.

Taking Five's face into your hands, you gently guide his gaze to meet yours, searching his troubled eyes for any hint of recognition or awareness. 

Despite the chaotic circumstances surrounding you both, you are determined to unravel the mystery that seems to have gripped him, refusing to let fear or uncertainty hinder your efforts to reach him in this moment of profound disconnection.

He wasn't fully present, his mind preoccupied, leading to an increase in his breathing rate and the occasional unintelligible muttering under his breath. 

"Hey, can you hear me?" you softly inquire, mindful of not causing any further distress. He responds with a slight nod, a small step forward in this moment, which brings a smile to your face. 

"Great. Could you tell me something you see?" you prompt, noticing his gaze shifting, now focusing on his environment.

You release your hold on his face to allow him to observe, though he remains mostly still, his head turned towards you with subtle movements. 

"I see.. you," he responds slowly. 

After a brief pause, he shuts his eyes briefly and shakes his head in a moment of internal struggle and attempted clarity.

He takes a deep breath, the weight of the unspoken between you heavy in the air, before finally mustering the courage to open his eyes once more. 

"We don't talk about this," he says with a solemn tone, prompting you to instinctively raise your hands in a gesture of surrender, yet you nod understandingly regardless. 

"That's fair," you agree, a moment of silence hanging in the air as you let your hands fall back to your sides, disregarding the sharp pain that shot down your arm when you moved it.

Concern evident in your voice, you inquire, "But seriously, are you alright?" 

His response is unexpectedly grave, "I will be once we "figure out who's eye this is."

Before you can continue the conversation, a sudden knock at the window startles you, drawing your attention to the door where Luther stands, his presence both unexpected and intriguing.

He looks at you with a menacing stare, commanding you to "Move," his voice brooking no opposition. 

With swift precision, he effortlessly scoops you up and hurls you into the back, where an unexpected collision with Klaus jolts you. 

Amidst the chaos, Five interrogates Luther about their discovery, to which Luther stammers out a response before being cut off by Klaus's sudden intrusion.

Your amusement bubbles over as Klaus affectionately strokes Dolores' face, eliciting a chuckle from you. 

"Can we have a bit of privacy here, guys? We're really hitting it off back here," Klaus teases, bringing another wave of laughter.

 In the midst of the banter, Five throws an object at the man beside you, prompting a high-pitched, surprised yelp to echo through the confined space.

"Get out! You can't be here!" Five's voice echoed through the room as he pointed towards the door, his expression clearly displaying annoyance. 

"I'm in the middle of something," he added firmly, trying to maintain his focus despite the interruption caused by Klaus's presence.

Klaus couldn't resist teasing, his smirk evident as he questioned, "The middle of what? Making lovey dovey eyes at y/n?" 

This playful comment earned him a playful smack on the arm from you, followed by a stern glare that caused a slight blush to color your ears unexpectedly.

Five quickly shut down Klaus's banter by retorting, "No, Klaus. Shut up." 

The tension between the two brothers was palpable as Klaus leaned in, inquiring, "Any luck finding your one-eyed man?" 

Five's whispered reply was barely audible, "No." 

The confusion grew as Luther interjected, "What's he talking about?"

"Does it matter? It's Klaus," Five says before he groaned and turns his attention to Luther, asking in an exasperated tone, "What do you want, Luther?"

Luther's revelation about Grace's potential involvement in their father's death caused your disbelief to surface with a scoff, earning you a swift glare from Luther. 

Looking back at Five, who exchanged a knowing look with Luther, the urgency in his voice was evident as he requested, "I need you two to come back to the academy. It's important," conveying the gravity of the situation they now found themselves in.

"'It's important,'" Five scoffed, his disappointment evident in the shake of his head. "You have no concept of what's important." 

Suddenly, Klaus burst into the conversation, diverting everyone's attention with his eccentric humor. 

"Hey, did I ever tell you guys about the time I waxed my ass with chocolate pudding?" he chuckled, evoking a grimace from you as the unforgettable memory flooded back.

His laughter continued as he recalled the painful experience. "What are you still doing here?" Five interrupted sharply, halting Klaus' amusement in its tracks.

Klaus, caught off guard, attempted to defend his spontaneous interruption with a shaky smile. "I... What? I need an excuse to hang out with my family?" 

Luther stepped in, recognizing the need to bring back seriousness to the conversation amidst the chaos caused by Klaus. "We're trying to have a serious conversation," Luther interjects.

"What, and I'm incapable of being serious?" Klaus accuses, his frustration evident in the sharp edge of his tone. 

"Is that what you're saying?" Your heart twinges with sympathy for Klaus; it's clear that he struggles to be taken seriously, a fact that he perhaps overcompensates for with his defensive demeanor.

"Luther's got a point, you should get out," Five interjects, a hint of concern in his voice as he addresses Klaus. 

"What?" Klaus retorts, his pride wounded and barely concealed beneath the surface. 

"Fine!" With a mixture of indignation and hurt, he exits the room, the door echoing his departure with a forceful slam.

Turning his attention toward you, Luther adopts a condescending tone. "You too, y/n. The adults are talking," he asserts, a smug smile playing at the corners of his lips. 

You can't help but feel irked by Luther's dismissive attitude. 

"I'm literally the same age as you," you assert, your voice tinged with defiance and exasperation.

"You don't act like it," Luther retorts, a hint of mockery in his gaze. In response, you roll your eyes, a gesture of silent protest against his unfair judgment. 

"Fuck you, ape man," you retort, your words laced with a mix of annoyance and defiance as you follow Klaus out, the door reverberating with the echo of your frustration as it slams shut, signaling your departure in search of your friend.

As you confidently strolled down the bustling sidewalk towards the quaint corner store, a sense of intuition guided your steps, leading you to the unassuming building. 

Sure enough, as you entered, your gaze immediately fell upon him, Klaus, burdened with an impressive array of food items cradled in his arms.

Unveiling yourself stealthily, a mischievous whisper escaped your lips as you addressed Klaus from behind, causing him to startle before recognition set in.

"You planning on paying for that?"

"y/n, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" he hissed in a mixture of relief and amusement.

A shared chuckle passed between you as you deftly snagged a bottle of tequila off a nearby shelf, signaling your partner-in-crime with a knowing nod. 

Without missing a beat, Klaus matched your cue, hastening his pace towards the exit, determination evident in each stride.

The sudden outburst of the store owner disrupted your stealth, demanding to know your intentions as both of you made a swift retreat, urgency propelling your movements. 

Ignoring the protests echoing behind you, a sprint ensued, propelling you back towards the awaiting van, the sound of the shop bell fading into the background.

"Whoo!" Klaus's exhilarated voice pierced the air, a burst of energy echoing through the crowded street.

"Stop!" The urgent command came from another man, his tone filled with authority. "Hey! Stop right now!" His voice intensified as he tried to intervene in the unfolding situation.

"Hey, bitches!" Klaus's provocative shout cut through the commotion, the sound of whistles in the background adding a chaotic layer to the scene.

After exchanging a final wave of 'goodbye', you watched as Klaus darted recklessly into the passing traffic, his daring move leaving you momentarily stunned. 

Seeking refuge, you slipped into the nearby alleyway, a safe vantage point to observe the unfolding drama.

From your discreet location, you noticed Five and Luther, their bewildered expressions fixed on the spectacle unfolding before them, silently mirroring your own disbelief at the chaotic scene.

"Out of the way, asshole!" Klaus's voice rang out again, mingling with the agitated honking of a car horn, a classic Klaus-style exit from the situation. 

Amused, you stifled a chuckle from your concealed vantage point, waiting until the chaos subsided before emerging back into the now-quiet surroundings.

You watch Luther stepping out of your designated seat in the van, prompting you to take his place and close the door behind you. 

Letting out a sigh, you shift your gaze to Five, who is observing you intently.

"That was fun" you remark, raising the bottle of tequila. 

"Want some?" you offer, but Five declines with a slow shake of his head.

"Not at the moment. Just keep an eye out for Lance, or whatever his name is," he advises, turning his attention back to the view through the windshield. 

Feeling a sense of monotony setting in, you place the bottle on the ground and cross your arms.

"Why did you even take that? Don't you have enough money?" Five questions, taking you by surprise.

"Well, yes, but I need it for rent." you explain. "Why not look for a better job then?" he suggests.

You snort and shake your head, your disbelief palpable as Five's skeptical gaze meets yours.

"Bold of you to assume I even have a job," you retort, the implication weighing heavy in the air between you both.

As Five's eyebrows furrow in confusion, he questions, "You don't have a job? I would assume you did considering how you can pay rent." His doubt lingers, mingling with your own unspoken challenges and frustrations.

With a soft chuckle tinged with enduring perseverance, you offer an insight, "It's not exactly easy getting a job in this body. It's actually surprisingly difficult, believe me I've tried." The memories of rejected applications and closed doors play like a slideshow in your mind.

A flicker of genuine curiosity crosses Five's features, prompting him to ask, "Now that I think of it, how do you still look like that?" The innocence in his question catches you off-guard, your smile faltering briefly before composing yourself.

"Mission gone wrong, I guess," you confess slowly, feeling the weight of past failures press against your resolve. 

As Five's expression shifts to one of sympathy, you can't help but furrow your brows defensively.

"So.. how's your arm?" he asks, gesturing to your shoulder. Your mood lifts up again, and you look at the covered spot. 

"It's fine. wasn't the first time I've been shot." you inform Five. "Probably won't be the last either." you chuckle at your own joke, even though it's probably true. 

You look to Five to see a faint frown on his face. 

"Yea, I've been shot so many times," you laugh, trying to lighten the mood with some dark humor. 

You casually drag down the collar of your shirt, revealing a faint scar on your collarbone. "This one is from my first mission when I was like 7," you start to explain, reminiscing about your past experiences. 

Five looks at you with concern as you reveal more about your dangerous history, but you confidently brush it off. 

"I had to kill this guy that was building a huge bomb or something. Anyways," you nonchalantly continue, a mix of nonchalance and underlying seriousness in your tone. 

You let go of your shirt and move your hand to the bottom of your shirt, lifting it just enough to reveal the slightly faded but still visible marks on your ribs.

The memories flood back as you trace the lines, each scar telling a story of survival and resilience in the face of peril. Looking at Five, you see a mix of admiration and concern in his eyes.

As you sat there, recounting the memories etched into your skin with those 6 bullet scars on your right side, you carefully twisted your body so that Five could catch a glimpse of them. 

"These marks," you began, your voice laced with traces of both pride and pain, "these came from a shotgun during one of my last missions." A fleeting smile danced across your lips as you observed Five's reaction—a subtle blend of embarrassment, tinged with a hint of growing concern.

Relaxing against the seat once more, you released the grip on your shirt, allowing your body to settle comfortably as you propped your feet up on the dashboard. 

"It hurt like a bitch, but hey I 'saved the timeline'" The casual sarcasm in your voice was evident as you punctuated the phrase with air quotes.

A brief moment of silence lingered before Five's voice pierced through the quiet air. 

"You were only 7..?" he inquired softly, his curiosity palpable. 

Your smile, though slightly dimmed by the weight of the past, remained resilient. 

"Well, yeah. The Commission was all I knew until I left, it only makes sense to make a use out of me I guess" you confirmed, with a hint of resignation.

"What about your parents?" he asks, his voice gentle yet probing. 

The question alone was enough to send a chill down your spine, forcibly triggering a wave of memories that you had long suppressed. 

Struggling to recall their features, you grasped onto the solitary detail that offered any semblance of connection - their shared last name, which seemed like a distant echo in the corners of your mind.

With a weighty sigh, you muster the courage to respond, the words heavy on your lips. "They're gone," you finally admit, the admission itself feeling like a stab to your heart. 

The silence that follows is suffocating, layered with unspoken condolences and the ache of old wounds freshly opened. 

Sensing your discomfort, he interjects softly, "Listen, I'm.. sorry for prying," his tone laced with empathy. 

To your surprise, his next words catch you off guard, "I didn't know," he confesses, his own realization adding a layer of understanding to the exchange.

As you reflected on his struggle with apologies, you acknowledged the sincerity in his efforts. "It's not your fault, it's fine," you reassured him, brushing off any lingering tension with grace. 

"I barely knew them anyways," you added casually, releasing a breath as you shifted the focus from the past to the present moment.

Feeling a surge of lightness, you eagerly redirected the conversation to a lighter topic. 

"Wanna hear about my last mission? It's actually pretty funny," you proposed to Five, noticing the subtle curiosity in his expression. 

"Only if you want to tell it," he responded, granting you the freedom to share at your own pace.

"Ah, okay, so-"! you begin with eager excitement. "I found myself in a situation where I had to deal with this guy who owned a bunch of pet eels, can you believe that?" you query, your voice a mix of disbelief and amusement. 

"As it turned out, this guy had some sort of plan to release these eels at a beach, which, needless to say, sounded like a recipe for disaster."

Your voice quickens as the adrenaline from the memory kicks in. "Imagine my surprise when I entered his house and stumbled upon this tank filled with these things swimming around. To make things even more unsettling, I soon realized that these eels were no ordinary ones - they were electric eels!" you recall, the shiver of that moment still vivid in your mind.

Five raises an eyebrow as you push forward with your tale, "But hey, at least there was a railing around the tank, right?" you mention with a nervous chuckle, relieved to have some barrier between you and the electric charges.

As you recount the event to your listener, the gravity of the situation dawns on you, "It just hit me like a truck, man - these electric eels were essentially me, but in fish form-" you muse.

"So anyways, there I was, standing in the guy's kitchen, watching him as he made food for his fish. So, I aimed my gun and fired, because I was tired and I wanted to go home." 

You take a breath. "But, to my surprise, he ran like a wuss, and eventually we both ran back in the room filled with the fish tank" you take another breath, the excitement going away and turning into a more solemn tone.

"..He took a good look at me and smiled, even though I had a gun pointing at him." You stop for a second.

"..And...His next words only confused me at first, because he claimed to have known my parents and even.. he said my dads name."

"I guess I got distracted.. he hit the gun out of my hands and shoved me into the tank. I.. felt electricity going through my body, like, jolting me..? It felt like it was going to last an eternity. " You avoide any eye contact with Five.

"So you let yourself get pushed into a tank of electric eels just because he knew your dad's name?" Five asks rhetorically, with a small smirk on his lips as he raises an eyebrow in amusement, clearly intrigued by the absurdity of the situation.

"I didn't," you inform him, your voice tinged with a mix of exasperation and disbelief, as you shake your head slightly, hoping to clarify the misinterpretation that seems to amuse Five.

As your spirits lifted once again, you couldn't help but find humor in the situation. 

"This is the funny part - listen, I electrocuted them back," you quipped with a snort.

Reflecting on your actions, you sheepishly admitted, "My dumbass didn't even consider the fact that I was underwater, so I kind of messed up." 

Chuckling at the memory, you recounted how your impulsive decision not only resulted in the demise of the foolish fish but also put your own life at risk. 

Glancing at Five, who was completely engrossed in your tale, you continued to divulge, "Long story short, I brought this upon myself." 

Gesturing towards your body, you couldn't resist a few more chuckles as you mused, "I really made a mess of things, didn't I? I mean, I didn't drown, obviously. I managed to escape the fish tank, killed the guy, but something just felt... off, you know?" Pausing for a moment, you pondered the strange turn of events.

"I just sat there for like an hour next to that body thinking, 'is this really what I want to do with my life?' I mean I almost died- even though it was my fault- and I could only think of one person who would miss me if I ever died on that mission."

"Who was it?" Five asked slowly, his curiosity piqued as he focused on your every word.

"Now that's classified, Hargreeves," you replied casually, playfully pointing a finger at him. 

"But now?" you continued, drawing Five's attention closer to you. 

"Now I'm surrounded by people who genuinely care for me, for who I am." you stated, a genuine smile of gratitude touching your lips.

"Well.. after that long, painful hour and six minutes of sitting next to the corpse, I ended up punching the absolute shit out of my briefcase and.. I ended up behind the academy." Reflecting on the peculiar turn of events, a slight chuckle escapes you at the memory. 

"That's when I first met Klaus." I remark, recalling the chance meeting that altered the course of your life.

Five half smiles are directed at you, each one reflecting a different shade of emotion. "Well, I'm glad you put that behind you," he starts off with a hint of relief in his voice. 

"Is it comforting? To talk about it I mean," he adds, his tone curious and slightly apprehensive. You respond with a thoughtful hum and a nod, conveying your agreement.

"Yeah. It really is," you affirm his question with a sense of appreciation in your voice. "Why?" you inquire, wanting to understand the significance of his curiosity.

He pauses for a moment, pursing his lips before letting out a sigh. "No reason. Asking for a friend," he explains.

You react with a dramatic gasp, adding a touch of teasing to the moment. "You have friends?" you jest, a playful grin forming on your face.

He gives you a deadpan look, his eyes reflecting mock exasperation. "Ha ha. Funny," he shakes his head lightly before turning his gaze back to the scene outside the windshield.

~~~

Every now and then, despite the emotional hurdles it presented, you would find yourself unraveling the events that unfolded. 

There was an undeniable sense of catharsis that washed over you afterwards, a bittersweet relief that somehow whispered promises of healing.

It was Klaus, your savior in that moment of peril, who you felt indebted to beyond measure. His timely intervention had truly been the difference between life and death, a debt impossible to repay. 

Lost in fleeting thoughts of what could have been, your consciousness teetered on the brink of sleep until Five's gentle touch on your shoulder jolted you back to the present, mindful of the injury you carried.

"y/n. Sparky," Five's voice pierced through the haze of weariness, prompting you to meet his gaze with a heavy heart and tired eyes that yearned for rest, yet brimmed with unspoken gratitude towards this ragtag family that had become your anchor in tumultuous seas.

Five points out the windshield, his tone filled with a sense of urgency as he exclaims, "There's our guy." You glance ahead, squinting to discern the figure in the distance. 

"Hm. It's about damn time," you mutter, a hint of impatience evident in your voice, Five nodding in silent agreement beside you. The tension in the air is palpable as you both wonder aloud, 

"What the hell is he up to?" Your minds race with possible scenarios, each more concerning than the last, as you prepare to confront the unknown threat looming ahead.

~~~

A/N : I wrote this one really fast I hope you like it. <3

word count : 6310

[80pairsofcrocs]

spacial sparks || 5

Chapter warnings - Klaus punching you in the fucking face, getting shot, crappy fight scenes, five being bipolar (again), blood, bullet wounds, guns, let me know if i missed anything.

~~~

Second pov

~~~

"Like I said to your son and his girlfriend earlier, any information about the prosthetics we build is strictly confidential," the doctor spoke from his desk as he patiently explained the sensitive nature of their work.

It was you, Klaus, and Five in the office after getting Klaus cleaned up; and you had returned to the prosthetic place to seek more answers.

Klaus, as expected, couldn't resist teasing you and Five on the journey back, prompting Five to eventually snap at him while you playfully bonked him on the head a couple of times to keep the peace.

And now, you find yourself standing there awkwardly, absently picking at your newly bruised knuckles thanks to the elevator buttons, in a mix of frustration and amusement.

"Without the client's consent, I simply can't help you," the doctor tried to reason with Five, who remained persistent in his quest for a name from the doctor.

"Well, we can't get consent if you don't give us a name," Five asserts firmly to the doctor, a hint of frustration in his tone as he emphasizes the importance of clarity in the situation. 

The doctor responds by putting his hands up in a gesture of innocence, feigning detachment from the issue at hand. 

"Well, that's not my problem," he retorts, attempting to deflect responsibility.

Klaus interjects, staying in character to demand his own consent be considered. "And what about my consent?"

"Excuse me-?"

Your expression mirrors Five's as you exchange a puzzled glance with him, both of you thrown off by Klaus' unexpected outburst. 

"Who gave you permission," Klaus begins to fake cry, drawing out each word for effect, "to lay your hands on my son and his lovely girlfriend?" 

The weight of his words hangs in the air, leaving a tense silence that is punctuated by your and Five's simultaneous questioning of the doctor's actions.

"You heard me," Klaus declares defiantly, pointing an accusatory finger at the bewildered doctor, solidifying his stance in the confrontation.

"Oh, really?" Klaus disagreed, gesturing accusatorily at Five with a sharp raising of his eyebrows. 

"Well, then how did he get that swollen lip, then?" you observed Five intently, noticing a lack of any visible injuries, especially a swollen lip. 

Your eyes shifted discreetly, betraying no hint of other intentions for inspecting his features.

As you were about to interject to clarify Five's uninjured state, the doctors exclamation was rudely cut short by Klaus's sudden outburst. 

Swift and aggressive, Klaus's fist landed hard on Five's unsuspecting mouth, causing an instinctive gasp of shock to escape your lips.

Five grimaced in pain, cradling his jaw with a hint of defiance in his gaze directed towards Klaus. 

Sensing his discomfort, you moved closer to him and delicately reached out, gesturing towards his face with a soft touch of concern. 

"Are you alright?" you whispered, maintaining a reassuring tone. 

With a slight nod, Five averted his gaze from you, bracing himself for further confrontations with Klaus.

The scene escalated as Klaus grabbed you forcefully by the collar of your shirt, his words laced with a frenzied accusation. "And another thing! how'd she get that bloody nose?! Huh?!" 

Klaus's tone bordered on hysteria, drawing confused glances from onlookers. Pushing against Klaus's unyielding grip, you struggled to free yourself.

"Klaus don't you fucking dare-!"

Despite your warning, Klaus's actions spiraled out of control, leaving you in a vulnerable and precarious position.

He swings at you as well, getting you right in the side of the nose. 

You hear a sickening 'crack' and your eyes begin to water, the force of impact causing your head to snap to the side. 

As your vision clears, you find yourself face to face with Five, his expression a mix of surprise and concern. 

Instinctively, you reach up to your nose, the warm wetness of blood seeping through your fingers.

"Shit-" you mutter under your breath, scanning your surroundings in a futile search for something to staunch the flow.

"I want it. Name, please. Now." Klaus goes back to the doctor, leaving you and Five behind him to deal with your injuries. 

"Your nose is a little crooked," Five laughs softly, pointing to your badly crooked nose.

"Really? Didn't notice" you smile at him, the small tears drying onto your cheeks, and blood dripping from your nose making you bring your sleeve up to it to catch it. 

As Five nudges you with a box of tissues, you gratefully accept them, thanking him with a mumble. 

His response is a hum before your focus returns to Klaus, who is drawing the attention of the doctor. 

"You're crazy," the doctor remarks, glancing between you and Five. 

You are seen pressing a tissue to your nose, trying to stifle a potentially harmful sneeze.

Klaus finds amusement in his own antics. "'Peace on Earth' That's so sweet," he says before impulsively smashing his head into a glass surface, causing you to startle. 

The room fills with Klaus's groans as he shakes his head, small glass fragments scattering around. "God, that hurt!" he exclaims, the sound of his voice reverberating in the space.

In the midst of the chaos, the doctor moves to contact security, only to have the phone snatched away from his grip. 

Confusion sets in as Klaus urgently commands over the phone, "There's been an assault in Mr. Big's office! We need security immediately! Schnell!" His dramatic distress evident, he forcefully hangs up the call.

"Now, here's what's going to happen, Grant," Klaus grits out, his expression tense as he leans forward over the desk, an intimidating aura surrounding him.

"It's not Grant, it's Lance," 'Lance' interjects, a touch of annoyance evident in his voice.

"In about 60 seconds, two security guards are gonna burst through that door, and they're gonna see a whole lot of blood, and they're gonna wonder, 'What the hell happened?' And we're gonna tell them that you.." 

Klaus begins to dramatically sob again. "..beat the shit out of us."

With a deep breath, Klaus drops the facade and looks at you and Five, standing united in front of the desk, a sense of solidarity permeating the room. 

"You know, Grant, or rather Lance, you're destined for greatness in prison," he mutters wearily with a knowing grin.

"Trust me, I've been there. Little piece of chicken like you. Oh, my god, you're gonna get passed around like a-" he waves his hips around. 

"You're just... You're gonna do great. That's all I'm saying." Klaus finishes his rant with a toothy smile.

"Jesus, you are a real sick bastard." Lance tells him, making you smile.

"Thank you," Klaus responds, his grin widening into a sardonic smile as he meets Lance's gaze, a hint of mischief glinting in his eyes.

The blood on your nose had finally ceased flowing after Klaus expelled some glass and allowed the crimson liquid to course down his forehead. Retrieving the tissue, you inspected the dried blood before discarding it. 

As Lance guided the group towards the location of the clients' files, an irritating itch began to emerge in your nose, likely a result of the recent break. 

Exhaling in exasperation, you halted your steps, causing Five to pause in bewilderment.

"Are you coming?" Five inquired, motioning towards Klaus and Lance ahead. 

"Just give me a moment," you replied, clenching your hands around your nose and realigning it with a forceful crack, accompanied by a grunt.

Releasing your grip, you tested your newly adjusted nose with a sniff, finding some relief. 

A slight dampness in your eyes prompted you to wipe them, leading to an unexpected gaze from Five, his cheeks tinged with pink and eyes wide in surprise.

Confused by his reaction, you questioned, "What?" 

"Nothing," he murmured, swiftly making his way to catch up with Klaus and Lance. 

Baffled but intrigued, you followed suit, hoping to uncover more about the mysterious situation at hand.

~~~

"Oh, that's strange," Lance says, flipping through the papers, his brow furrowed in confusion as his eyes scan the records.

"What?" you ask him skeptically, sensing the tension in the air and leaning slightly closer to catch a glimpse of the mysterious document.

He looks from the papers to you who is now leaning on the side of the desk, then back to the unsettling information in front of him. 

"Uh, the eye. It hasn't been purchased by a client yet," he explains with a puzzled expression, causing you to raise an eyebrow in disbelief.

"What? What do you mean?" Five presses, their voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and concern, the intensity growing as they demand more clarification.

"Well, uh, our logs say that the eye with that serial number... This can't be right. It hasn't even been manufactured yet," he elaborates, his voice trailing off in astonishment as he struggles to make sense of the unexpected revelation.

"Where did you get that eye?" he shakily points at Five, who is standing to your right, the accusatory tone laced with a hint of alarm as the mystery deepens.

You and Five exchange a puzzled glance before turning back to Lance, awaiting further explanation and feeling the weight of uncertainty settle in the room.

"Well, this is not good," Five mutters grimly, the urgency in their voice evident as they quickly steer you towards the elevator once again, the unsettling discovery lingering in the air like an ominous cloud.

~~~

The three of you - you, Five, and Klaus - were now leisurely strolling out of the building once again, with the sun beaming brightly overhead. 

"I was pretty good, though, right? 'Yeah. What about my consent, bitch?'" Klaus chuckled, a satisfied grin lighting up his face. 

"Yes, you did fantastic," you replied, returning his grin with equal enthusiasm, while Five let out a barely perceptible scoff up ahead. 

"Klaus, it doesn't matter," Five interjected with a hint of disdain in his voice, aiming his remark at the bemused Klaus. 

Klaus, somewhat confused, wrinkled his brow and innocently queried, "What's the big deal with this eye, anyway?" his curiosity piqued.

With a troubled expression clouding his features, Five turned to face both you and Klaus, the weight of his words evident in his furrowed brow. 

Catching Klaus's perplexed gaze, you silently communicated an air of shared perplexity. 

Five let out a heavy sigh, frustration evident as he raked a hand through his disheveled hair. Five sighs, and runs a hand through his hair. 

"They're gonna bring about the end of life on this earth as we know it."

Klaus, with a nonchalant demeanor, allows the comment to sail right past him without a second thought.

"Hey, can I get that 20 bucks from you right now, or are we going to have a problem?" he inquires with a playful grin, clearly attempting to shift the conversation away.

"Your 20 bucks?" Five questions, consciously lowering his voice to prevent it from escalating, causing a slight crease in your brow as he steps closer to Klaus, his discrepancy in height becoming apparent.

"Yes, indeed, my 20 bucks," Klaus retorts, a hint of indignation evident as he places a hand over his heart in a dramatic gesture.

"You did promise him the 20 bucks," you interject, coming to Klaus's defense, prompting him to nod in agreement.

Five points at you, motioning toward your encouragement. "And what have I said about encouraging him?" he directs his frustration at you. 

"The apocolypse is coming, and all you can think about is getting high?!" he chastises Klaus with escalating fervor.

Klaus, however, remains unwavering, offering a grin tinged with unease. "Well, I'm also quite hungry, tummies a-rumblin'." he jokes, enhancing his smile as he simulates the sound of a growling stomach by rubbing his midsection.

"You're useless," Five concludes, shaking his head in disappointment. 

"All of you are useless!" he exclaims in frustration before storming back toward the staircase of the building.

You weren't going to lie, it stung . It's been a complex journey so far with him, especially knowing he distrusts you around his family. 

And now, to be branded as useless - that cut deep. As he sits there with his head buried in his hands, Klaus takes a comforting approach, showing support by sitting beside you, next to Five. 

"Oh, come on,'' Klaus interjects in a soothing tone, easing the tension as he pulls you down gently to sit beside him and Five. 

"You need to lighten up, old man," he chuckles, flashing Five a friendly, crooked smile.

Five, overcome by frustration, simply sighs in response, attempting to brush off Klaus' efforts to diffuse the tension. 

"Hey, you know, I've just now realized why you're so uptight," Klaus announces with a sudden epiphany, catching you off guard and prompting you to direct a puzzled look towards him.

"You must be horny as hell!" Klaus bursts into laughter, causing you to stiffen slightly, your gaze shifting towards the bustling street ahead.

"Didn't need to know that," you mutter softly, trying to maintain composure amidst the awkward revelation.

"All those years by yourself," Klaus starts again, his tone filled with genuine concern. "It's gotta screw with your head, being alone, isolated from the world and your loved ones." 

Five, feeling a pang of loneliness, looks past you to Klaus, who interjects cheerfully, "Plus, now you have y/n by your side, so boom! problem solved~" 

Your embarrassment intensifies as Klaus sings out, prompting you to groan and humorously hide your face in your hands. 

"Oh my god, you're so embarrassing," you mutter exasperatedly. 

"Are you serious? Once I stop the apocalypse, I'm letting her go home, and hopefully, I'll never have to see her again," Five firmly asserts, feeling the weight of his responsibility. 

"Feelings mutual, fuck face," you retort, playfully teasing him as you take your face out of your hands. 

Five, fighting back a wave of emotion, insists further, "I wasn't alone, either. There was someone else, someone special."

Intrigued, Klaus gestures to him. "Oh? Pray tell."

"Her name was Dolores," Five said softly, his gaze fixed on a point in the distance, as memories of their time together flooded his mind. 

You observed the mix of nostalgia and longing in his expression, sensing the depth of their connection that transcended time. 

"We were together for over 30 years," Five continued, a hint of pride and warmth seeping into his voice.

"Thirty years? Oh, wow!" Klaus's laughter filled the room, a mix of admiration and wonder at such a longstanding bond. 

"God, the longest I've been with someone was... I don't know, three weeks?" Klaus chuckled, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. 

He met your gaze with a hint of curiosity, seeking confirmation in shared recollections. 

"It was three weeks right?" Klaus prompted towards you, searching for that fleeting moment in his past.

"Yeah, I remember that," you smile fondly at the memory, reflecting on the time when Klaus had earnestly pleaded for you to stay with him and his 'partner' prior to you securing your own apartment. 

Despite your repeated assurances that you could find alternative accommodations so as not to inconvenience Klaus, he brushed off your concerns as mere 'whacky nonsense' and insisted on hosting you anyway.

"It was just that Sparky and I were exhausted and needed a bed to sleep on." Klaus interjects, causing Five to roll his eyes at the explanation. 

As you listen to Klaus recount the events, your smile wanes, prompting thoughts about your own lack of experience in genuine relationships.

While fleeting crushes have come and gone over time, you find yourself reflecting on how every potential connection seemed to unravel before you could muster the courage to confess your feelings or delve deeper into exploring the possibility of a committed partnership. 

The realization weighs on you, nudging you to contemplate your journey of self-discovery and introspection, as you navigate the intricate landscape of romantic entanglements and emotional vulnerability in pursuit of a meaningful connection that has thus far eluded you.

"He did make the most fantastic osso buco, though, it-" you heard Klaus start to say, when Five grabbed your arm and teleported into a moving car, the sudden shift in reality leaving you breathless and disoriented. 

Your heart raced as you yelped and instinctively yanked your arm back, shooting a bewildered glare at Five, who, oblivious to your shock, was nonchalantly waving to Klaus on the other side of the window, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

The man driving, clearly taken aback by the unexpected arrival, let out a gasp and cautiously started slowing down the car, his eyes darting between the unusual occupants in the backseat. 

"Don't stop. Just keep going," Five's urgent command sliced through the tense silence, prompting the driver to instinctively step on the gas and propel the car forward with renewed speed.

As the scenery outside whizzed by in a blur, a loud and indignant voice pierced through the chaos, "Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, what about my money?!" Klaus's frantic outcry echoed from outside, his figure rapidly shrinking in the distance. 

You peered out the window, a mix of guilt and frustration twisting in your gut as you watched Klaus fade into the background. 

With a resigned sigh, you turned back to fix a steely glare at Five.

"What?" he noticed your glare as he fidgeted with his hands, clearly feeling the tension in the air. 

"You should've given him the 20 bucks," you sneer at him, your voice dripping with disapproval.

Five lets out a sigh, his eyes narrowing at you as if trying to decipher your mood. "You're still mad about that?" he questions, the disbelief evident in his tone as he leans back in his chair. 

"He'll get over it," he adds, trying to pacify the situation as he averts his gaze, not wanting to engage in a further argument.

Feeling a mix of frustration and disappointment, you shift your focus to the passing scenery outside the window beside you. 

The soft hum of the engine and the rhythmic motion of the vehicle provide a temporary distraction as you process the unresolved tension between you and Five.

~~~

You stare up at the sign that reads 'Gimbel Brothers,' the neon lights now dim in the evening. Fatigue sets in, and you feel the urge to head home and unwind with a bit of intoxication. 

In disbelief, you mutter to yourself, "Are you kidding me?" 

Five's response - "Does it look like I'm kidding?" - carries a tone of certainty as he urges you to follow him. However, he pauses, realizing you haven't budged from your spot.

A scowl forms on your face, accompanied by a shake of your head as you express your feelings of inadequacy.

 "Listen, you obviously don't trust me at all and I'm useless so I think you'd be happier if I wasn't here." you reason with Five. His gaze softens, hinting at a shift in his perspective.

In an attempt to reassure you, Five's gentler side emerges. "I didn't mean it. Now let's go.," he insists, giving a light tug on the rehabilitation bracelet that still adorns your wrist. 

Leading you towards the store, he suddenly teleports both of you inside, catching you off guard.

Whispering to Five in a hushed tone, you express your frustration, "Can you please stop teleporting us everywhere?-" His focus now on finding a flashlight, you brace yourself for the next unexpected turn of events.

"It's not teleporting, it's spacial jumping," he emphasized with a hint of defiance evident in his voice.

"That's the same thing," you countered cheerfully, wanting to tease him a little.

"It's not the same thing," he persisted, his determination unwavering.

"But it kinda is," you insisted, trying to lighten the mood with a playful smile.

"No, it's different," he maintained, a touch of exasperation edging into his tone.

"How?" you prodded, genuinely curious.

"Because teleporting is instantaneous, while spacial jumping involves sequential movement," he explained, eager to clarify his point.

"...Oh?"

"Don't argue with me. They're fundamentally distinct," he asserted firmly, not willing to concede.

"Yeah but-"

"Teleporting disregards physical space entirely, whereas spacial jumping requires navigation through different spatial dimensions," he offered, hoping to convey the nuanced disparities.

"..Fuck, fine. You win, smartass."

You see Five roll his eyes and mess with the flashlight in his hands, while you make a spark in between your thumb and forefinger, similar to what you did at Griddys, which is giving you deja vu.

Five catches your eye and lets out a derisive chuckle before flicking on his flashlight. 

"Show off," he chides under his breath, to which you playfully retort, "You're one to talk," as you trail behind him through the store, echoing the familiarity of a lost puppy by his side.

Curious, you inquire, "So what exactly are you looking for?" The light emanating from your hand casts a soft, serene blue hue, illuminating every corner of the store. 

Five responds tersely, "Someone important," ensuring that you remain by his side throughout the exploration.

The sound of Five halting his steps draws your attention, prompting you to pivot and observe his fixated gaze on a pair of lifeless mannequins, causing a perplexed furrow to form on your brow.

"Dolores," Five warmly greets the piece of plastic as you draw nearer, his voice tinged with a sense of longing and familiarity. 

"It's good to see you. I've missed you, obviously," he continues, his words hinting at a deeper connection with the inanimate mannequin.

Reflecting on the tumultuous events of the past few days, Five reveals his eagerness to introduce you to someone significant. 

Despite his hushed tone, you catch the whispered mention of this mysterious person. 

A mix of curiosity and disbelief washes over you as you try to comprehend the situation.

Frustrated by the absurdity of the moment, you momentarily stop your powers and blow on your fingers, the reality of the situation sinking in. 

'Dolores is a mannequin,' you exclaim inwardly, grappling with the implausibility of the scene unfolding before you.

As Five nudges you closer, you reluctantly approach, observing his unwavering fixation on the mannequin named Dolores. 

With a peculiar sense of solemnity, Five introduces the plastic figure to you, emphasizing the significance of her presence.

"Sparky, meet Dolores."

"And Delores, this is Sparky," Five declares, his voice carrying a unique blend of sincerity and enigma as he bestows a peculiar moniker upon the doll. 

Moments of contemplation pass as you gaze at the inanimate figure.

"Sparky?- Only Klaus calls me that," you glare. His casual shrug and smirk indicate a familiarity that you can't quite place. 

Before he can say anything more, the sudden chaos erupts around you both, a gunshot piercing the air and sending you both instinctively ducking for cover.

As the mannequins crash to the ground, revealing the harrowing aftermath of the gunfire, Five scrambles to salvage what remains of the figure he had been engaging with. 

Your heart pounds in your chest as you huddle behind the clothing racks, Five mirroring your position on the opposite side of the room.

"Shit, it's them," Five's voice reaches you, laden with a mix of urgency and concern even from the distance between you. Confusion clouds your mind as you inquire aloud.

"Them..? Who's them?" The response is swift and merciless, a barrage of shots raining down upon your hiding spot, forcing a sharp gasp from your lips.

The unsettling sound of 'whoosh' echoes through the chaos, a clear indicator of impending danger. 

With narrowed eyes and a newfound resolve, you stealthily navigate the aisle you find yourself in, searching for a possible escape route. 

Another 'whoosh' nearby sets your nerves on edge, the subsequent gunfire driving home the reality of the peril lurking just around the corner.

"You see that? There's two of 'em," a woman's voice says with a sense of perplexity. "You said he was special- wait, there's two?" a man's voice asks, his tone filled with incredulity at the unexpected revelation.

Assuming that the woman nodded in response, the man probes further, "So now what?" as you discreetly peek over a clothing rack, scanning the area in search of Five's elusive presence.

With a hint of determination in her voice, the woman lays out a plan, "You start over there, I'll go to the other end. Meet in the middle." 

Her strategic instructions continue, "Shoot anything that moves," prompting you to quickly duck back down, contemplating your next move in the adrenaline-fueled situation.

As you weigh your options, pondering the grim choices laid out before you, the thought 'Go out there and die, or get found and die. Great.' flashes through your mind, intensifying the urgency of the moment. 

Suddenly, you feel a swift grab and another 'whoosh' before instinct takes over, causing you to react swiftly by delivering a punch to whoever seized you.

Your initial panic subsides as you focus your gaze, only to find Five rubbing his shoulder with a wince, eliciting a palpable sigh of relief from you. 

"Did you have to punch me that hard?" he questions in a subdued voice, the tension of the situation fading into an exchange of lighthearted banter between allies in the face of uncertainty.

"Well I didn't know it was you!" you whisper shout to him, your tone a mixture of surprise and annoyance. 

He rolls his eyes, a smirk dancing on his lips, as he shoves a duffle bag into your arms and gently pushes you down on the floor. 

"Keep that safe," he instructs in a serious yet teasing manner, his gaze locking with yours.

You huff in response, a playful glint in your eye, as you casually toss the bag on the floor, feigning nonchalance. 

Slowly getting up, you pause when Five pushes you back down with a firm yet gentle hand. 

"Stay," he commands, his voice soft yet authoritative, before turning to walk away. 

You observe him with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, unfortunately admiring his protective nature.

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you retort, "I'm not a dog, idiot," With determination in your step, you decide to find a weapon for both your protection and amusement. 

Ignoring Five's attempts to get you to return and hide, you saunter off, your curiosity piqued and adrenaline rushing.

Amused by the unfolding events, you confidently search the store for something that could serve as a weapon. 

Your eyes land on a rack with a couple of belts hanging from it, and you swiftly grab the longest one. 

With your makeshift weapon in hand, you stride back to the front of the store, ready to face whatever comes your way.

"Elastic wrist splint, yes!" You can't help but roll your eyes in frustration. 

Reacting swiftly, you leap onto his back, trying your best to restrain him by wrapping the belt around his neck just below his mask in an attempt to restrict his breathing.

Despite his attempts to dislodge you by firing his gun, your grip remains firm until he forcefully slams the weapon against your hand, causing you to release your hold. 

Collapsing to the ground as he massages his neck, you seize the chance to make a break for it, though your escape plan falls short due to a lack of speed. 

The man open fires, striking your left shoulder with a painful impact.

Wincing in pain, you sink to the floor, praying that he assumes you are no longer a threat. 

Peering down at your now-bleeding shoulder, your eyes fixate on the glint of a silver bullet protruding from the wound.

"Shit," you silently curse, realizing the severity of the situation as you prepare yourself for the next course of action.

Of course, right before you could try and dig it out, another 'whoosh' rings in your ears and you're behind something else with Five and the duffle bag. 

As you grasp your shoulder to prevent the bleeding, you silently lament the ruined favorite shirt, humorously wondering about the unfortunate fate of your clothing. 

"The bastard jumped again, with the girl too," the man's voice reaches you amid the distant approach of sirens, indicating the high stakes of the situation. 

"Come on, let's go," the urgency in the woman's voice prompts both of them to vanish from sight, leaving you and Five to deal with the aftermath. 

"Shit," Five mutters softly, his frustration evident as he takes a moment to collect himself before deciding on the next course of action, the tension in the air palpable. 

You clutch onto your left shoulder from beside Five, both of you trying to catch your breaths. 

You let out shaky exhales, trying to keep them quiet so as to not reveal your injury to the boy on your right who happens to be clutching the bag, you assuming that his plastic girlfriend is inside it. 

As you carefully control your breathing, you feel a dull, throbbing ache spreading through your shoulder, a lingering reminder of the chaos that just unfolded.

You notice Five look at you, making you take your hand off your shoulder to avoid suspicion. 

"Are you okay? Did you get hit?" he asks you, concern evident in his voice, his gaze searching for any signs of distress on your face. 

With a forced smile, you assure him, "Nope. I'm good, you?" attempting to deflect his worry with casual nonchalance. 

Relieved by your response, he also shakes his head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Let's get the hell out of here," he suggests, the urgency in his voice mirrored by the tight grip he takes on your wrist, his determination palpable. 

You nod slowly, your eyes feeling a bit heavy but not enough for anyone to notice, the weight of exhaustion beginning to settle in as the adrenaline of the moment fades into the background, leaving behind a sense of weariness.

You hear the 'whoosh' and you're suddenly standing at the entrance to the academy, the abrupt change in surroundings jolting you back to reality, disoriented but grateful for the swift escape from danger. 

The adrenaline rush is over, and you stumble into Five who almost drops his bag in the process of trying to catch you, which just has you leaning on Five for a second before standing back up straight on your own, the brief moment of reliance showcasing the unspoken trust that binds you both in moments of uncertainty.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Five asks you skeptically, heading towards the doors. His face gives off that he's still angry about the eye, but you don't say anything.

You start to slowly drag your feet towards the doors too, a heavy silence hanging between you both, filled with unspoken tension. 

Not trusting your words to convey the magnitude of your pain and weariness, you find solace in a feeble hum and nod, an attempt to mask the throbbing ache in your shoulder and the increasing lightheadedness clouding your mind. 

Despite your efforts, you can sense Five's lingering doubt in his piercing gaze, his skeptical eyes drilling into your facade.

He opens one of the main doors with his free hand, a gesture of reluctant concern softened by the slight crease in his brow. 

His protective instinct shines through as he ensures the door doesn't swing shut, a subtle gesture that speaks of unspoken care and understanding, even amidst the turmoil that still simmers between you.

You sway with every step you take, a visible wince flashing across your features with each movement. The weight of exhaustion tugs at your limbs, threatening to pull you into the abyss of fatigue. 

Your eyelids, heavy like lead, protest each blink, a silent protest against the relentless pull of weariness. 

The bullet lodged in your shoulder throbs with a persistent ache, the metallic taste of blood rising in your throat as the wound begins to seep crimson once more, a stark reminder of the perilous situation you find yourself in.

As your breathing becomes more and more shallow, panic sets in, causing you to frantically scan the room at every slight noise that catches your attention. 

Suddenly, amidst the haze of blurred vision, a voice - Allison's, you recognize - utters the word, "Five." 

Struggling to focus, you manage to make out Luther's deep voice questioning what happened to both of you. 

Through the chaos, another voice attempts to offer help, but in your state of distress, you can no longer discern who it belongs to. 

Gasping for air, each breath becoming heavier and quicker, you hear a disjointed message barely making its way to your ears. 

"There's... nothing you... can do," the words choppy and distorted. Overwhelmed, you realize the futility of trying to resist the overwhelming fatigue surging through you. 

Reluctantly, you succumb to the weariness, allowing your heavy eyelids to finally shut, enveloping you in a momentary escape from the chaos surrounding you.

~~~

Third pov

~~~

"There's nothing you can do," Five tells Allison and Luther firmly, his grip tightening on Luther's wrist to prevent him from interfering. Sensing a hint of desperation in Luther's eyes, Five pivots around just as a sudden gasp resonates, followed by an ominous thud that echoes in the tense atmosphere.

Reacting swiftly, Allison rushes towards the origin of the sound, Five's sharp eyes recognizing y/n's figure crumpled on the ground. 

Without hesitating, he gently lifts her head, his fingers instinctively searching for a pulse to confirm her condition.

Setting his bag down with a purposeful thud, Five joins Allison by y/n's side, his expression laced with a subtle hint of concern. 

Sharing a moment of silent communication with Allison, a mix of relief and apprehension flickers in their exchanged glances.

As Allison's fingers detect a faint pulse, her relief is palpable, yet a wave of accusation directed at Five swiftly follows. "What did you do to her?!" she demands, her tone teetering on the edge of anger.

In utter disbelief, Five meets Allison's accusatory gaze head-on. "What did I do? She said she was fine-" he retorts, his attention drawn to a trickle of blood seeping through y/n's sleeve, the glint of silver catching his eye. 

With a sharp intake of breath, he instinctively turns towards Allison, a silent plea for understanding mirrored in his expression.

"We have to get her to mom," Allison declared urgently as she noticed the perplexed expression on Five's face. 

Her statement seemed to stir a sense of urgency in Five, who quickly rose to his feet and scanned the surroundings for any sign of Grace. 

The urgency in his actions hinted at a deeper concern, one that he tried to conceal from the others. 

Despite his usual detached demeanor, Five couldn't shake off the worry that gripped him when he thought about the possibility of losing his newfound companion.

It was a rare display of vulnerability from Five, a sentiment that he hardly ever shared with anyone, least of all his siblings. 

Deep down, he knew that his connection with this enigmatic acquaintance was different, perhaps even special. 

There was an unspoken understanding between them, a bond that transcended words and boundaries. 

In her, Five saw a reflection of himself, a kindred spirit that resonated in ways he couldn't quite articulate.

As they hastened towards their destination, the weight of the impending danger seemed to hang heavy in the air. 

It wasn't just about reaching their destination in time; it was about safeguarding a newfound connection that had woven its threads into Five's guarded heart. 

The thought of losing her spurred him into action, pushing him beyond his comfort zone in a bid to protect what he held dear.

As he pondered her origins with the commission, a mysterious organization shrouded in secrecy, his curiosity burned ever brighter. 

Was it through skill, chance, or something else entirely that she found her way into their enigmatic ranks? 

Questions swirled in his mind like elusive specters, demanding answers that eluded even the persistent prying of his thoughts. 

Yet, an invisible barrier prevented him from vocalizing these inquiries, locking them behind a wall of stoic silence. 

Not even Delores, his most trusted confidante, would be privy to the storm of curiosity raging within him. 

However, amidst the enigma of her past, a more urgent concern seized his attention - the safety and well-being of y/n. It consumed his every waking moment, a relentless shadow eclipsing all other thoughts and emotions. 

His single-minded determination now centered on ensuring that y/n remained unscathed, a singular purpose that drove him forward through the murky depths of uncertainty. 

And so, with each passing moment, the enigma of her commission affiliation deepened while the imperative of safeguarding y/n's existence grew ever more pressing, intertwining in a tangled web of intrigue and peril.

~~~

A/N : I hope you're liking it. :) i'm really bad at fight scenes by the way, so sorry if it's confusing. if you want just think of whatever you want for it if it doesn't make any sense.

original title names consisted of, "the other woman" "name to a face" "sparky?" and something about the eye. also a lot of you have recognized me from 'baby scarab' i miss you guys <3

word count : 6233

[80pairsofcrocs]

spacial sparks || 4

Chapter warnings - apocolypse talk, drug use, alcohol, y/n being a consenting(?) hostage, fighting (verbal and physical), five is super bipolar, klaus being klaus, let me know if i missed anything

~~~

Second pov

~~~

"I survived on scraps. Canned food, cockroaches, anything I could find." Five chuckles from beside you, the sound a stark contrast to the harsh realities you had faced. You shifted slightly, favoring a position closer to him, absorbing his every word with an almost desperate eagerness. 

"You know that rumor that Twinkies have an endless shelf life?" Five posed the question, his tone laced with a hint of amusement.

"Well, it's total bullshit," Five declared matter-of-factly, causing a fleeting smile to grace your lips before disappearing behind a mask of neutrality. Vanya's voice, tinged with disbelief, broke through the somber atmosphere.

"I-I can't even imagine," she stuttered, her words echoing the unfathomable depths of survival desperation. As Five paused before continuing, you couldn't help but question the narrative. 

'I thought he said he was alone..' the thought lingered in your mind, a whisper of doubt surfacing amidst the unfolding revelations.

"Whatever the world threw at us, we found a way to overcome it," Five's words resonated with a haunting truth, leaving a trail of unspoken mysteries in their wake. 

Vanya's curiosity mirrored your silent ponderings, her query about the enigmatic "We?" left unanswered, lost in the shadows of unspoken histories shared between them. 

Five's abrupt request for something stronger stirred a response from Vanya, her gaze unwavering. 

Caught in the ambiguity of the moment, you exchanged a shrug with Five, a silent acknowledgment of the complexities that intertwined your fates. 

Turning back to Vanya, Five's blunt declaration pierced the air. "You think I'm crazy."

"No," Vanya stammers softly, her voice wavering with uncertainty. "It's just..." she trails off, her words hanging in the air, heavy with the weight of the situation. 

"It's a lot to take in," she finally admits, her eyes searching for understanding.

After that, Five releases a tired sigh, the sound filled with exasperation. "Exactly what don't you understand?" he questions, his tone edged with frustration as he seeks clarity in the midst of confusion.

"Why didn't you just time travel back?" Vanya inquires.

Five sighs again, fatigue evident in his movements as he rubs a hand wearily down his face. "Gee, wish I'd thought of that," he remarks dryly, his words laced with a touch of sarcasm. 

"Time travel is a crapshoot," he explains, his voice tinged with a sense of resignation. "I went into the ice and never acorn-ed," he admits, a note of regret creeping into his words as he recalls past attempts.

"You think I didn't try everything to get back to my family?" he challenges Vanya rhetorically, his gaze intense as he searches for understanding. 

"If you grew old there, you know, in the apocalypse, how come you still look like a kid?" Vanya's question hangs in the air, a mix of curiosity and concern evident in her expression.

"I told you already," Five begins, his gaze shifting between you and Vanya, a sense of vulnerability flickering across his features. "I must have got the equations wrong," he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of self-doubt. 

"I mean, Dad always used to say that..." Five's voice trails off, his thoughts drifting momentarily as he pours himself a drink, the weight of his past experiences evident in his actions. "Time travel could mess up your mind."

"Well, maybe that's what's happening?" Vanya's voice held a hint of uncertainty as she posed the question to Five, who responded with a ponderous silence.

"This was a mistake. You're too young," Five's words carried a tone of concern as he firmly grasped your wrist, pulling you towards the door. "too naive to understand."

"No. Five... Five, wait." Vanya stepped in front of him, halting his movements before folding her hands into her pockets.

"I haven't seen you in a long time, and I don't want to lose you again. That's all." Vanya attempted to convey her emotions, her expression a mix of regret and sincerity as she blocked the path to the door before turning to address you. 

"And I haven't been fair to you, and I need to make up for it," she affirmed.

Gratefully acknowledging Vanya's words, you offered a appreciative smile, though tinged with a hint of restraint.

"And you know what, it's getting late, and I have lessons early, and I need to sleep, and I'm sure you guys do, too," she says gently, noticing the tired expressions on both your faces, emphasizing the importance of rest before guiding you both back to the couch.

"Here," Vanya offers, placing a warm blanket on the couch where you and Five are awkwardly standing next to each other, creating a cozy and inviting atmosphere for the night.

"We'll all talk in the morning again, okay? I promise," Vanya reassures Five before bidding goodnight and retiring to her room for some well-deserved rest, punctuating her departure with a soft murmur of "Night," as she closes the door behind her quietly.

"Night," you and Five respond simultaneously, acknowledging the end of the day and the need for sleep. 

You turn to Five, meeting his gaze as he sits on the couch and you perch on its arm, one leg lifted off the ground, seeking confirmation about your departure plans.

"We aren't staying here right?" you ask softly, your tone reflecting a hopeful anticipation for returning to your own space and routine.

"Nope," Five confirms, a hint of amusement in his voice as he assures you of the imminent departure.

"Thank god," you mumble, feeling the tension in your temples gradually ease as your headache subsides. 

Glancing over at Five, you notice him fixated on what appears to be a glass eye, though you can't be certain. 

"What is that?" you inquire, prompting Five to swiftly tuck the eye away in his pocket. 

"The key to saving the world," he replies earnestly, but your amusement gets the best of you. 

"Sorry, it's just that you seemed so serious," you chuckle, earning a stern look from Five.

"I am serious," he asserts, his tone now tinged with impatience. Your teasing continues nonetheless. 

"Yeah, well, I found it endearing," you jest. Mimicking his grave tone, you exaggerate, "'Save the world'," complete with air quotes, provoking an eye roll from Five as he averts his gaze. 

"Stop talking," he snaps, his frustration palpable, before abruptly pulling you up and whisking you both away from Vanya's, back into the open air.

"You—" You start, only to be cut off by Five. 

"Didn't I just specifically instruct you to shut your fucking mouth?" He challenges.

"And yet here we are, you dragging me around like a sidekick, after you kidnapped me." you quip, trying to lighten the tension. 

Five's glare softens momentarily as he encourages you into the waiting car. "Get in and stay quiet." 

"Okay, Grandpa," you playfully respond, quick to comply and slip into the vehicle before he can protest further.

~~~

As you and Five stood in the elevator on your way to an office, a sense of curiosity lingered in the air as you questioned him about the eye concealed in his pocket. 

"Are we here to find out whose eye is in your pocket?" you inquired, prompting Five to respond with a mocking tone, acknowledging your perceptiveness. 

"Now you're using your brain," he retorted with a taunting smirk. "You want a treat?"

You glare. "Dick."

"Very mature, y/n."

With Five glancing back intermittently to ensure you trailed behind, the background noise of ringing phones and chatter filled the air as you were approached by a man in medical attire, curious about your business.

"Uh, can I help you?" the doctor questioned, prompting Five to reveal the eye he held in his grasp. 

"I need to know who this belongs to." Five requests.

"Where did you get that?" the doctor asks skeptically. 

"What do you care?" Five snaps, making the doctor look at him with concern.

Witnessing the exchange, you raised an eyebrow, silently contemplating the effectiveness of his approach. 

'He's never going to get an answer if he snaps that quickly,' you thought to yourself, recognizing the importance of maintaining a level head in such situations.

After letting out a deep, weary sigh, you instinctively reach out to guide Five behind you, your hands resting on his shoulders to subtly keep him behind you. 

With an artificially bright smile plastered across your face, you tentatively announce, "We... We found it..." 

Five shoots you a quizzical glance before nonchalantly shrugging off your touch. "At a playground, actually," you continue, the pieces of the story slowly coming together in your mind.

As you start fumbling for the right words, your hands instinctively find refuge in your pockets, providing a fleeting moment of comfort. 

"Uh, must have just..." you trail off, searching for the appropriate expression. 

Five chimes in, clicking his tongue, and smoothly interjects, "Popped out," offering you the missing conclusion. 

"We want to return it to its rightful owner," he quickly asserts, mirroring your action by burying his hands in his own pockets. 

"Yep..." you mumble softly, feeling the weight of the situation settle upon you.

The man before you responds with admiration, calling you both thoughtful young individuals, prompting your forced smile to falter into a grimace of discomfort. 

"Yeah. Look up the name for me, will ya?" Five abruptly sheds his facade of congeniality, revealing impatience seeping through his demeanor by the second, a change not lost on you as you observe his edginess intensify.

"Uh, I'm sorry, but patient records are strictly confidential," the doctor began to explain, a tinge of reluctance evident in his voice, causing you to roll your eyes almost involuntarily. 

"That means I can't tell you-" his sentence abruptly ending as Five abruptly interrupted, cutting to the chase.

"Yeah, we know what it means," Five interjected, a touch of impatience lacing his words as he took control of the conversation.

The man, sensing the tense atmosphere, attempted to diffuse the situation with a hesitant smile. "But I'll tell you what I can do," he spoke, his voice softening slightly as he made a half-hearted attempt to reach for the eye. 

"I will take the eye off your hands and return it to the owner." His words hung in the air amidst the growing tension between Five and the man.

Five, however, was having none of it. His voice hardened as he blocked the man's attempt to touch the eye, his gaze unwavering. "Yeah, you're not touching this eye," he asserted firmly, drawing a clear line in the sand.

Startled by this bold confrontation, the doctor's initial demeanor faltered. "Now, you listen here, young man," he tried to regain control of the situation, only to be forcefully interrupted as Five grabbed his collar, pulling him down to eye level in a display of intimidating authority. 

Witnessing this intense exchange, you instinctively took a step back, your eyes widened and lips pressed into a tight line, feeling the escalating tension in the room.

"No! You listen to me, asshole, I've come a long way for this, through some shit your pea brain couldn't even comprehend." Five's voice rose with determination, his words laced with a mixture of defiance and frustration as he directed his unwavering gaze at the man in white. 

As you contemplated the unfolding confrontation, briefly considering the option of making a hasty escape from the escalating scene, it became apparent that Five was deeply invested in the situation, his tenacity clear despite your potential desire to slip away unnoticed.

"So just give me the information I need, and we'll be on our merry way," you hear Five say assertively as you cautiously back up towards the elevator, your hand reaching out to push the down button. 

"And if you call me 'young man' one more time, I'm gonna put your head through that damn wall," Five threatens in a low, menacing tone while engrossed in the conversation with the doctor, his demeanor exuding a clear warning that he means business.

"Oh, dear," the lady at the reception desk exclaims in a mildly concerned tone, sensing the escalating tension. 

"Call security," the doctor requests urgently, prompting the receptionist to comply without hesitation, taking swift action to handle the unfolding situation.

As the elevator doors slide open, you swiftly enter and instinctively press the button for the main floors, anticipating a discreet escape. 

A fleeting glance reveals Five turning around, his searching gaze finally locking onto you within the confines of the elevator. 

Witnessing his reaction, you see him beginning to stride purposefully in your direction, his head shaking almost paternalistically, a gesture reminiscent of a disappointed father reprimanding a wayward child who has just knocked over a prized possession.

As your eyes widen once more, a surge of impatience rises within you, prompting you to rapidly push the close doors button. 

The urgency of the situation escalates with each step closer that Five walks towards you, driving you to press the button with increasing speed, not even bothering to glance up and locate his positioning.

With frustration mounting, you transition from pushing to punching the button, the forceful impacts punctuated by muttered expletives. 

"Fucking" - another punch, "Close" - another, as if the intensity of your actions could command the doors to shut faster.

When the doors finally heed your command and begin to close, your gaze involuntarily lifts, revealing an absence where Five once stood in front of you. 

Your movements slow as you cautiously turn around, only to find his piercing gaze fixed on you from behind. 

His expression conveys a mixture of amusement and disbelief, causing you to deflate with a resigned sigh, your eyes dropping to the ground.

"Nice try," he taunts sarcastically, the knowing glint in his eyes triggering a surge of defiance within you. 

Meeting his gaze with a glare, you feel the weight of his words as he remarks, "Really, I expected better from an assassin," teasingly cloaked in mock pity. 

"It would be more believable if we went back with a parent," you suggest, cautiously eyeing Five, silently hoping that he grasps your subtle hint. 

The elevator doors glide open, and as you step out with Five, making your way back towards the outside of the building, you decide to further emphasize your point. 

"Like one of your siblings," you elaborate, carefully choosing your words.

"Do you know if they're busy?" Five asks you, back in his serious mode. 

You nod. "Well Luther is going crazy about the moon, Allison is trying to go home, Vanya would cave under pressure, Diego's off playing hero, so that really only leaves one person." you explain swiftly, looking to Five.

"No," he starts, his voice firm and resolute, his brows furrowing ever so slightly in mild frustration. 

"But-" you attempt to interject, only to be abruptly cut off by his unwavering tone. 

"No, we are not bringing Klaus," Five reiterates, his words laced with a sense of finality as he halts his steps, fixing you with a somber yet determined gaze. 

"Well it's either Klaus or the apocalypse. It's your choice," you explain firmly before beginning to turn away.

With a sudden tug at the back of your shirt, Five halts your movement and concedes, "Okay, let's find Klaus." His reluctant acceptance brings a sly smile to your face. 

"But if he fucks it up, I'm blaming you." he adds, grasping your wrist and steering you back towards where the car had been parked.

"Get-"

"I know, I know." You comply, sinking into the car seat. "Jeez." you mutter under your breath, following his lead with a hint of exasperation evident in your tone.

~~~

Arriving at the academy alongside Five, you split up to tackle different tasks: he went off to find Klaus, leaving you to explore the kitchen downstairs. 

As you idly flipped one of Diegos knives in your hand, your attention was drawn to a loose floorboard. Curious, you skillfully lifted it with the tip of the knife and unveiled your hidden stash concealed beneath.

Among the items nestled there were a few lighters, a pack of cigarettes, and various powders and pills of mysterious origin. 

Laying the knife aside, you helped yourself to a red lighter and a small bag of colorful pills, tucking them discreetly into your pockets. After carefully replacing the floorboard, you made your way upstairs in search of Five and Klaus.

Before stepping out of the kitchen, you paused to place the knife back on the counter. Climbing the stairs, you headed towards Klaus' room and caught snippets of a conversation mentioning your name. 

Intrigued, you lingered outside the slightly ajar door, eavesdropping to glean insights into the ongoing discussion.

"y/n is one of the 43, you've seen her powers right?" you hear Klaus ask Five inquisitively, a hint of curiosity in his voice. 

"Yes, but that doesn't explain why she looks like me," Five retorts, his tone slightly defensive. "You know why. Don't you?" Five probes sarcastically, a knowing edge to his words.

You hear Klaus stammer, his usual confident demeanor faltering, and you feel your hands get a little sweaty with apprehension. "It's not my story to tell, so what's this about an eye?" Klaus laughs uneasily, diverting the conversation to a seemingly lighter topic. 

You notice Five sigh, his footsteps echoing as he paces around the room.

"Can she be trusted?" Five questions Klaus, a touch of wariness in his voice that doesn't escape your attention. you hold your breath, sensing the weight of the pending answer. 

"Of course, I've known her for almost 15 years," Klaus responds sincerely, his assurance bringing a sense of relief that washes over you, calming your nerves.

"15 years," Five echoes, his voice tinged with contemplation. "And she hasn't done anything to... hurt you?" Five delves further, his investigation probing deeper. 

You shake your head in silent reassurance, a moment of certainty prompting you to open the door and reveal your presence, stepping into the conversation with a sense of resolve.

"No," you start, your voice cutting through the tension in the room and causing the two startled boys, Klaus and Five, to snap their heads towards you with surprise at your sudden appearance. 

"I wouldn't hurt Klaus or anybody else, not even if there was a gun pressed against my head," you affirm, fixing Five with a firm glare that conveys your unwavering stance.

"Sparky..?"

"Hm?" you respond as Klaus questions your name, his tone filled with curiosity. 

Following his gaze to your hands, you furrow your brows in confusion before you look down, discovering that your fingers are emitting little sparks of blue light, a physical manifestation of your intense anger in that moment.

Realizing the electrical display, you quickly apologize, exclaiming, "Sorry," while vigorously shaking your hands to cease the sparks. 

Meanwhile, Five observes you with a complex expression that seems to blend shock, confusion, and a hint of understanding, a mixture of emotions reflecting perhaps his own inner turmoil.

However, before anyone can delve deeper into the situation, the moment is abruptly interrupted, diverting attention away from the unusual occurrence, leaving a lingering sense of tension and curiosity hanging in the air.

"Five? y/n?" you all hear from downstairs. "Are you upstairs?" it was Vanya, you totally forgot about last night.

As Vanya's voice echoed through the house, a sense of unease settled over the room. In a hurried flurry of movement, Five pushed Klaus into the wardrobe, leaving you bewildered and bewildered by the sudden turn of events. 

Glancing back at you, Five offered a nonchalant shrug before awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, a telltale sign of his unease, just as the sound of Vanya's approaching footsteps on the staircase became more audible.

"Guys?" she called out, her voice tinged with relief upon finally locating you both. "Oh, thank God- I was worried sick about you two." With genuine concern etched on her features, Vanya scanned the room, her eyes searching for any signs of injury or harm that may have befallen you.

Sensing the tension in the air, Five took the lead in offering an apology on behalf of both of you. "Sorry we left without saying goodbye."

You stood beside him, silently concurring with a subtle nod, your arms involuntarily crossing as a defensive gesture.

"No, look, I'm the one that should be sorry," Vanya began, the words tumbling forth in a rush as she grappled with her own guilt and confusion. Five's eyes darted nervously towards the wardrobe, a silent reminder of the unfinished business lingering in the room.

"Yeah, I was dismissive, and... I... I guess I didn't know how to process what you were saying," Vanya continued, her voice tinged with a mix of regret and uncertainty. "And I still can't, to be honest," she concluded, leaving the weight of unspoken truths hanging in the air.

"It felt real," he finally starts, talking slowly. "And perhaps you were right to be dismissive." He sighs. 

"Well like you said, the old man did say time travel could contaminate the mind," you look at Five with sympathy, even though he couldn't see it, understanding the weight of his words and the uncertain nature of his reality.

It was weird to feel bad for this crazy guy who literally showed up out of nowhere. You don't know all the facts, but you know there's more to the story than what he's already said, a hidden narrative driving his determination to save the world despite his outward appearance of instability and detachment.

"Then maybe I'm not the right person for you to be talking to," Vanya says, breaking me from my thoughts, her tone laced with concern and a tinge of regret. 

"Look, I used to see someone, a therapist, I-I could give you her information-" she gets cut off, her attempt to offer assistance overshadowed by Five's own internal struggles and desire for solitude.

"Thanks, but... I think I'm just gonna get some rest," Five tells Vanya, then glances at you, his gaze contemplative and weighted with exhaustion. "It's been a long time since I've had a good sleep, and I'm sure y/n wouldn't mind some rest too," Five finishes, acknowledging not only his own weariness but also the potential need for respite shared by those around him.

"Okay," Vanya sighs as she leaves the room, leaving you to stare after her, her departure marking a brief moment of respite in the midst of uncertainty and chaos. 

You hear clattering coming from inside the closet, making you look at it with furrowed eyebrows.

"That's so...'' Klaus starts, falling out of the closet in a somewhat undignified manner, then quickly brushing himself off before continuing rather theatrically. "...touching, all that stuff about family and Dad and time. Wow!" Klaus exclaims enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling with emotion, which elicits a soft smile from you in response to his genuine sentiment.

"Would you shut up? She'll hear you." Five instructs Klaus sternly, causing you to playfully roll your eyes at their banter, which is a common occurrence between the two.

"I'm moist." Klaus declares to both of you with a mischievous grin on his face, prompting a snort from you, and earning a disapproving look from Five before he redirects his attention back to Klaus, who is clad in an eccentric 'Klaus' ensemble that is a visual representation of his character.

"I told you to put on something professional." Five reminds Klaus, a hint of exasperation evident in his tone, emphasizing the importance of the occasion they are preparing for.

"What?" Klaus defends himself, placing a hand over his heart in a melodramatic gesture. "This is my nicest outfit." Klaus informs him with a touch of resignation in his voice, prompting you to let out a small sigh, understanding Klaus's unique sense of style and his attachment to it.

"I think you look great," you say with a smile as you give Klaus a thumbs up, appreciating the noticeable joy that lights up his face, followed by a small 'yay'. 

Five, always the pragmatist, brushes a strand of hair out of his face and playfully warns, "Don't encourage him," nodding towards you before deciding, "We'll raid the old man's closet," as he heads out of the room, with you and Klaus trailing behind. 

Klaus, always eager for the next adventure, promptly chimes in, "As long as I get paid," reminding Five of the practical aspect of their plan. 

Five assures him, "When the job is done," emphasizing the importance of finishing what they started. Sensing Klaus's need for clarification, Five listens as Klaus begins to inquire, "Okay, but just so we're clear on the finer details, I just gotta go into this place and pretend to be your dear old dad, correct?" 

"Yeah. Something like that," Five responded with a cryptic smile, raising more questions than answers. 

Klaus interrupted the cryptic exchange with a curious inquiry, "What about y/n?" As Klaus gestured towards you, standing next to him, the spotlight inadvertently shifted your way. 

Curiosity piqued, you questioned, "Yeah, what about me?" With a playful undertone, you urged Klaus to share his imminent revelation, crossing your arms defensively. 

Klaus, ever the drama enthusiast, raised his hands dramatically, leading to a near miss as he almost struck your face. Momentarily taken aback, you shot him a disapproving look.

The trio stood frozen on the verge of the staircase, poised for Klaus's impending declaration. With theatrical flair, Klaus made his bold announcement, "I will be your dad," he targets towards Five, prompting skeptical looks exchanged between you and the boy. 

Before the tension could mount further, Klaus dropped the unexpected bombshell, "and y/n will be your girlfriend!" Your reaction was immediate; a crimson flush spread across your cheeks, signaling your internal shock.

Confusion clouded your mind as you grappled with Klaus's unorthodox proposition, whispering a singular question, "Why?" 

Klaus, undeterred by your reserve, slyly added, "Because you're not a Hargreeves... yet," his enigmatic tone leaving the group pondering the depth of his cryptic statement.

"That's a dumb reason," Five says to Klaus threateningly, emphasizing his point about the misunderstanding regarding his relationship with you. "She's not my girlfriend."

You attempt to reason with Klaus, explaining, "I don't even know him, I met him literally yesterday." However, before you can finish your explanation, Klaus swiftly grabs you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to prevent you from escaping.

As Klaus continues to tease Five about potentially dating you, he squeezes your cheeks playfully. "Who wouldn't want to date her? She's just like a cute little puppy." Despite your discomfort, Klaus seems amused by his comparison, flashing a genuine smile down at you.

Reacting quickly to Klaus's teasing, you deliver a small shock to his ribs, causing him to release his hold on you with a surprised yelp. "Bad Sparky," he mutters in response, acknowledging the unexpected jolt you gave him.

Turning your attention to Five, you notice that he avoids looking directly at you, but you can't help but observe a slight red tint at the tips of his ears, mirroring the color that has tinted your own cheeks in this playful interaction.

'good god-' you say in your head, your thoughts interrupted by Klaus swiftly changing the subject with a lighthearted comment. 

"Anywho, what's our cover story?" Klaus queries, causing an air of mischief to settle in the room. As you furrow your brows in confusion, Five's sardonic tone cuts through the tension.

"What? What are you talking about?" Five questions aloud, reverting to his usual acerbic demeanor. Sensing his sharpness, you shift your attention to him, your expression now calm and collected. 

"I mean, was I really young when I had you? Like, 16?" He speculates, glancing mischievously at Five. "Like, young and-" His voice trails off, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. "terribly misguided?" he jests, attempting to lighten the moment.

"Sure," Five responds nonchalantly, signaling his agreement with a subtle nod. 

"Your mother, that slut.'' Klaus continues. "Whoever she was. We met at.." he thinks for a moment, you looking at him in disbelief. "the disco!" he chuckles. 

"Okay? Remember that." he requests you and Five, reminiscing about the unforgettable encounter with your mother at the disco, punctuated by the jovial chuckle in his tone. 

"Oh, my God, the sex was a-maz-ing!" he playfully croons, leading you to involuntarily snort out a laugh while you're already halfway down the stairs, the absurdity of the situation not lost on you.

Five glances at Klaus incredulously, shaking his head.

"What a disturbing glimpse into that thing you call a brain," he remarks, chuckling softly to himself, revealing an inkling of fondness beneath his teasing tone.

Klaus, undeterred by Five's comment, fires back playfully, "Don't make me put you both in a time-out," infusing his words with a mischievous glint.

~~~

A/N : oof that took forever, two days actually. y'all are lucky I already have all the chapters written. otherwise you'd be waiting for a loooong time. welcome back!!

word count : 4782

[80pairsofcrocs]

spacial sparks || 3

Chapter warnings - kidnapping(?), blood, knives, guns, adults attacking children, literal murder, drug use, alcohol, breaking and entering, let me know if i missed anything.

~~~

First pov

~~~

After realizing the dire situation I was in, stranded in the middle of nowhere at a small coffee shop with Five Hargreeves, I couldn't help but recall the events that led me here. 

It all started when I carelessly agreed to hop into his car, a decision I immediately regretted as the familiar feeling of impending trouble washed over me.

Determined not to be a passive victim this time, I attempted to resist his control over me, striving to assert my own agency despite the dire circumstances. 

It was a feeble attempt, overshadowed by Five's formidable powers and my own physical and emotional exhaustion.

As Five forced me out of the car, a mix of frustration and fear gripped me, the prospect of escape fleeting as he contained me within his grasp. 

The thought of running was enticing, but my weakened state rendered it unattainable.

Sitting in the coffee shop, the tension between us palpable, I quietly observed another patron entering the scene, unintentionally becoming a part of this bizarre encounter. 

His presence added another layer to the already intense situation, further complicating an already convoluted series of events.

Despite the overwhelming odds stacked against me, I couldn't help but feel a spark of defiance flicker within me, a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos that surrounded me.

 As I braced myself for what was to come, I knew that my fate was intertwined with that of Five Hargreeves, and perhaps, our collision was destined to unfold in this unassuming coffee shop in the middle of nowhere.

Resting both elbows on the counter of 'Griddy's', I absentmindedly toy with the loose threads of my left sleeve. 

Five's piercing gaze meets mine, causing a knot of tension to form in my stomach. Just as I prepare to address the situation, a woman dressed in pink emerges from the rear of the establishment.

"Sorry, the sink was clogged." The blonde woman explains with a light chuckle, diverting her attention towards the unidentified gentleman. "What'll it be?" she queries, clutching a notepad and pen.

"Uh.. give me a chocolate éclair," he states gruffly. "Mhm, sure." She acknowledges before shifting her focus to Five and me.

"Can I get the kids a glass of milk or something?" she inquires, gesturing towards us with her pen.

"The kids want coffee. Black." Five responds, his eerie grin never faltering. Disinterested, I fix my gaze on the table, feeling boredom seep in.

"Cute kids," she chuckles nervously, a sparkle of amusement in her eyes, before excusing herself to fetch our belongings from across the room where we had settled. 

As Five's eyes scan the surroundings, a frown creases his forehead, and he remarks, "Don't remember this place being such a shithole." 

The man nearby shifts his attention as Five continues, and I find myself tuning in to their conversation, contemplating the idea of slipping away unnoticed.

"I used to come here as a kid," Five shares, the man shooting him a puzzled expression. "Used to sneak out with my brothers and sisters and eat doughnuts till we puked," he recalls with a nostalgic smile. "Simpler times, huh?"

"Eh, I suppose." The man grunts in response, acknowledging Five's sentiment with a nonchalant shrug.

Upon the return of the waitress, she discreetly interrupts their exchange, placing two steaming mugs of coffee alongside a delectable éclair on the counter meant for us. 

"I got theirs," the man informs her, prompting a nod of understanding from the waitress before she disappears into the back.

"Thank you," Five and I chime simultaneously in gratitude, my voice less audible than his in the quiet building.

I look over to Five and see him staring at the man's jacket, which had some towing company on a patch. 

"You must know your way around the city," Five says, his curiosity piqued by the emblem on the jacket, indicating the man's familiarity with urban navigation.

"I hope so. I've been driving it for 20 years," He chuckles out a response, his tone carrying a sense of experienced confidence in maneuvering through the city's streets. His casual demeanor contrasts sharply with the directness of his next words. 

"Good. I need an address," He states matter-of-factly, prompting a surprised scoff from me at his bluntness, which leads to an uncomfortable tension lingering in the air as he gazes sharply in my direction upon the man's departure.

Amid the awkward pause, I slowly reach for the handle of the mug placed before me, raising it to my lips for a tentative sip. 

Upon tasting the questionable brew within, I ultimately set it back down with a sudden force, pulling a face at the disappointing realization reflected in the murky depths of the beverage.

"This coffee tastes like shit." I declare with distaste, my hand absentmindedly searching through my pocket until it comes across the jar Klaus had earlier given me. 

Turning to Five, who seems on the verge of speaking, I interject before he can voice his thoughts.

"Oh yeah, why am I here again?" I question with a hint of confusion, finally retrieving the diminutive jar from my pocket and offering it a fond smile before refocusing on the offending cup of coffee.

"I need to make sure you aren't a threat to me or my family," Five responds, his expression serious as he elucidates the purpose of our encounter. 

Humming thoughtfully, I begin to unscrew the cap of the mysterious liquid contained within the glass vessel.

"Well, I can assure you that I'm not, so..." I trail off, fully removing the cap and bringing the container to my nose, inhaling deeply to discern the scent of the mysterious, possibly drugged liquid.

I reel my head back, and squeeze my eyes shut for a second. "That's strong." I inform myself, and start pouring it into the coffee.

"Go ahead then." I say, waving a hand at Five. He furrowed his eyebrows, leaning further onto the counter. 

"Go ahead?" he repeats.

"Yeah, ask your questions. I know you want to" I say, taking a big gulp of my now spiked coffee. A couple seconds after I ingest it, I feel myself become a bit more awake.

"Why are you here?" I hear Five people ask, so I turn my body to face him completely in my chair. 

"Here as in Griddy's, or here as in-" 

"Stop!" Five exclaims, banging a fist on the table, making me jump, almost spilling my 'coffee'. I take another sip and groan in annoyance.

"I'm not playing your games!" Five exclaims again, making me furrow my brows, and glare at the boy whos glaring at me as well. 

"I don't know what youre talking about." I state calmly but forced at the same time.

"I know you're here to either kill me, or take me back. and I will have you know that I've killed every single person that's tried to take me back there, so I would rethink this if I were you." Five tells me, gripping his cup of coffee tightly, knuckles turning white. any tighter, and you were afraid it would shatter.

I could feel the surprise written across Five's face, his body language shifting as my words cut through the tense atmosphere. One eyebrow arched in disbelief, and my parted lips betrayed a hint of defiance. 

"I don't even know who you are," I remarked, a hint of cockiness in my voice as I nonchalantly took another sip of my coffee. 

The tension seemed to dissipate slightly as Five's guard softened in response. "What?" he quizzically echoed.

My frustration boiled over as I reiterated, my tone tinged with a touch of petulance, "I said I don't know you! You're just that guy that went missing. Can I leave now?" 

The air around us crackled with confusion as Five gestured towards my left wrist, a silent question hanging in the air.

In a moment of boldness, I interrupted before he could speak, a sly smirk playing on my lips. "Were you wondering if I still put up with that shit?" I quipped rhetorically before taking another deliberate sip of coffee. 

The chime of the door signaled the arrival of more patrons, their presence adding to the charged atmosphere.

An unexpected touch on my shoulder forced me to pivot back towards the counter, ready to unleash a string of expletives. 

Before I could make a sound, his grasp moved to my clothed thigh silenced me with a sharp intake of breath. 

Leaning in closer, his words pierced through the air, words meant for my ears only as the world continued around us. 

"We'll continue this later," the stark whisper carried a weight of promise. Rolling my eyes in defiance, I reluctantly nodded in agreement, my brewing anger simmering beneath the surface. 

"Sure, whatever," I muttered under my breath, a mix of annoyance and curiosity swirling within me.

"Hmm. That was fast," he remarked suddenly in a chipper tone, lifting his hand from my thigh. "I thought I'd have more time before they found me."

"Okay," came a voice from behind us. I idly circled my finger around the rim of my mug in boredom, already guessing the presence of the commission officers lurking behind me.

"Let's all handle this professionally, huh?" one of the men urged. "On your feet and come with us. They want to talk."

"I've got nothing to say," Five retorted. Another man responded, "It doesn't have to go this way." As Five casually sipped his coffee. "You think I want to shoot some kids? Go home with that on my consience?"

"I wouldn't worry about that," Five answered chillingly, turning to face them. 

"You won't be going home." With that, he vanished into thin air, a 'whoosh' echoing through the room, prompting a frustrated groan.

"Here we go again," I muttered under my breath. I chugged the remainder of my coffee, then hurled the mug at the man nearest to me. 

They all began shooting wildly in various directions, wasting bullets left and right.

The man I hit the mug with falls to the ground, and I hop off my stool and onto the counter, flipping myself over it to hide and think of what to do. 

"Come onnn, useless empty brain!" I exclaimed, frustration evident in my voice as I grappled with the chaotic situation unfolding before me. 

I hear Five calling them assholes from behind the counter I'm crouched behind, and then more gunshots. Panic gripped the air, suffocating any sense of calm that might have lingered. 

With a racing heart, I scanned the room frantically, my eyes landing on a half-empty glass of water shimmering in the dim light.

I hummed in thought and snatched it off the counter, the cool surface offering a momentary reprieve from the tension in the room. 

With a quick, calculated movement, I hurled the glass, watching as the water scattered in the air, cascading down on the unsuspecting men outside, creating a dazzling spectacle of chaos.

The men that got splashed turned to me, pale fury contorting their faces as they aimed their guns in my direction. 

"That was your best move, little girl? Try harder in your next life," one of them sneered, his voice laced with malice. 

Ignoring the threat, I grinned mischievously, plunging my hand into the water. A surge of raw energy crackled to life, arcing through the liquid with a blinding intensity, turning the water into a conduit of power.

The men recoiled in shock and pain, their bodies convulsing as the electric current wracked through their veins, a web of blue and white sparks dancing across their skin in a spectacular display of retribution. 

The room filled with the acrid scent of burnt ozone, mingling with the fading echoes of their stunned cries as they crumpled to the ground, a potent reminder of the force they had underestimated.

I roll my eyes in exasperation at the sight of my fingers, their tips now aglow in a vibrant shade of red, radiating heat that makes me instinctively blow on them to cool down. 

At that moment, my attention is drawn towards Five who is in the midst of a rather gruesome act, concluding with a swift stab to a man's eye.

His gaze shifts towards me, a mix of wonder and fatigue evident in his expression as he gestures towards the electrocuted figures sprawled on the floor, amid steaming puddles of water. 

"How did you manage that?" he asks, his breath ragged from the recent activity. 

In response, I demonstrate by bringing my pointer finger and thumb close together, conjuring a small spark of light blue energy that causes the tips of my fingers to emit a soft glow.

Observing Five's nod of comprehension, my eyes follow his abrupt change in focus as he scans the room. Noticing him overlook his tie near my feet, I seize the opportunity to retrieve it. 

However, as I turn back towards him, I find Five no longer in search of the missing item but rather, wielding a knife pointed at his own arm.

Preferring not to witness his actions, I avert my gaze until he eventually places a minuscule chip on the ground. "They tracking you?" I inquire, puzzled by the unfolding events. 

Five lets out a nonchalant hum in response. 

"But why?" I press further, attempting to grasp the vague reasoning behind their pursuit.

"Because." 

"Because why?" 

"Just because."

Frustrated by his cryptic responses, I fling his crumpled tie at him, hoping to evoke a more straightforward answer. 

"Can I just go then?" I inquire, hopeful for a swift resolution. 

"No, you can't," Five responds wearily before readjusting his tie, his actions conveying a sense of urgency as he grabs my wrist and leads me outside towards the waiting car, leaving me with more questions than answers.

~~~

"Wait, we're going to Vanya's?!" I exclaimed, the surprise evident in my voice as I spoke louder than intended. "Shut up," came the sharp retort in response.

"Not until you let me go home," I stated firmly to Five, a tinge of frustration in my tone. I swiftly unbuckled my seatbelt, defiantly placing my feet on the dashboard. 

"No. I still have use for you," he declared impatiently as the car navigated into an alleyway.

"Come on, the sooner we're in, the sooner we'll be out," He tried to reason, but I simply slammed the door shut after getting out, and strode angrily towards the building's side.

Turning to locate Five, I spotted him gesturing from Vanya's elevated window, positioned about two storys above.

In response to his gesture, I defiantly raised a hand with my middle finger sticking up proudly before beginning to scale the wall with determination, utilizing any protrusions for leverage.

By the time I managed to enter through the window, I encountered Five, who was staring at me with impatience. 

Gasping for breath, I couldn't help but scoff before heading towards Vanya's bathroom in search of supplies to tend to Five's wounds and prevent infections. 

Among the items I found were alcohol, bandages, and even a large assortment of pills.

Returning to the window I entered through, I found Five seated in an armchair, his head resting on his good hand. A silent exchange ensued between us, communicated through awkward blinks and hand gestures. 

As I knelt by the chair, I carefully took Five's arm, rolling up his sleeve to expose a bloodstained cloth that he had used in an attempt to stem the bleeding.

Observing the inadequacy of his makeshift bandage, I couldn't help but remark, "You did a shit job of trying to stop the bleeding." 

Initially silent, Five eventually met my gaze, his response delayed until I removed the saturated fabric and tossed it onto the nearby coffee table to my right.

"Why do you have that?" he almost whispers, as his eyes remain fixed on the intricate design of my tattoo. 

Unintentionally drawing attention to it, I had to roll up my sleeves to prevent any blood from staining my clothes. 

"Have what?" I feign ignorance, trying to steer the conversation away from my past.

As I reach for an alcohol-soaked cotton ball to tend to his cut, his firm grip on my wrist surprises me as he inspects the tattoo more closely. 

"That. don't be stupid," he chides, a hint of concern in his voice. Trying to downplay its significance, I respond, "I didn't want it."

With a gentle release of my wrist, I resume cleaning his wound, causing him to wince slightly at the stinging sensation. "Sorry," I murmur softly, feeling a pang of guilt. 

Confusion fills the air as he questions my unexpected display of remorse, "What? You're an assassin, why are you apologizing?" Five's skepticism lingers in the room.

Brushing a loose strand of hair away from my face, I meet his gaze squarely, trying to convey the truth. "I'm not an assassin."

Insistent on his beliefs, he asserts, "But you were." 

Avoiding further discussion on the subject, I divert my attention back to tending to his wound, slowly admitting, "Not by choice," my voice barely above a whisper, revealing a hint of vulnerability in my past.

"So you're not here to kill me?" he asks, his tone a blend of uncertainty and hope, as I carefully tend to the now clean cut on Five's arm, the bloodshed coming to an end. 

"Is that a serious question?" I retort, inwardly noting the genuine concern etched on his face. Five's reaction is a mixture of exasperation and disbelief, a silent commentary on the complexities of our shared past.

"I'm not a killer anymore," I state firmly, the weight of my words hanging in the air. He visibly relaxes at my assurance, a glimmer of trust flickering in his eyes, a moment of unspoken understanding passing between us. 

Before he can articulate his relief, the sound of echoing footsteps resonates from the hallway, injecting a sense of urgency into the room.

In a swift move, Five reaches out to switch off the lamp beside me, plunging the room into darkness. I feel my frustration rise. "Dude, I can't see anything—" I protest, only to be silenced by Five's hushed command.

With an annoyed eye roll, I brace myself as the door unlocks and swings open, the appearance of the expected guest prompting Five to quickly flick the light switch back on, revealing Vanya standing in the doorway, a tense moment of anticipation hanging in the air.

"Jesus-" Vanya says, walking in obviously startled. I blink to readjust my vision before just scoffing and going back to wrap up Five's arm.

"You should have locks on your windows," Five tells Vanya, his tone serious. 

"I live on the second floor," she retorts confidently, crossing her arms. "Rapists can climb."

"You are so weird," Vanya tells him, shaking her head in disbelief before turning her attention to me, who just finished wrapping the bandages around Five's arms.

"Why are you here?" she asks pointedly, her gaze narrowing in suspicion. 

"I was kidnapped," I said calmly, meeting Vanya's eyes without flinching.

Vanya's eyes widen in shock and panic. "What? By who- you're here though?!" she asks frantically, her voice filled with concern as she rushes over to sit on the couch near me, her worry palpable.

"Him," I point a finger in Five's face, a teasing glint in my eyes, making him scoff playfully and push my hand away. "I didn't kidnap you," Five defends himself with a mock offended expression.

"Right," I start, a sarcastic tone creeping into my voice as I click my tongue disapprovingly. "You just won't let me go home," I say, raising an eyebrow challengingly. 

"For now," Five adds quickly, a mischievous sparkle gleaming in his eyes. I roll my eyes in response and get up to move to another armchair, maintaining a comfortable distance across from them.Vanya.

"Is that blood?" asked Vanya, her finger pointed accusingly at the dark stain marring the collar of Five's shirt. 

"It's nothing," he responded dismissively, attempting to downplay the significance.

"Why are you here?" Vanya inquired again, her curiosity piqued. This time her question was directed at Five, pressing him for an explanation. 

"I've decided you're the only one I can trust," he confessed, causing me to stifle a snicker. Catching my reaction, he rolled his eyes before adding, "You're making progress," with a hint of sarcasm, just as Vanya prepared to voice her thoughts once more.

"Why me?" Vanya questioned, seeking clarity and understanding from Five. "Because you're ordinary," he stated bluntly, noticing her perplexed expression. 

Realizing the need for a different approach, he quickly amended, "Because you're a good listener."

"Alright," Five took a moment to compose himself, his tone becoming more serious as I propped my chin on my hand, feigning boredom. "When I jumped forward and got stuck in the future, do you know what I found?"

"No," Vanya admitted, her curiosity getting the best of her. "Nothing." Five's revelation hung in the air, causing a tense silence. "Absolutely nothing," he repeated, his gaze darting around the room before settling on the coffee table in contemplation.

"As far as I could tell, I was the last person left alive." I look down at the floor, hitting my shoes together lightly, the weight of solitude settling heavy on my shoulders as the silence of empty streets echoes in my ears. 

"I never figured out what killed the human race, but... I did find something else."

"What was it?" I manage to interject, my voice tinged with both curiosity and fear. "Shut it, I was getting to that," Five retorts with a hint of exasperation, a fleeting emotion in the face of impending doom. 

Five then pauses for a moment, drawing out the tension, before continuing, "The date it happens."

I'm on the verge of asking him to elaborate, but he beats me to it, his words leaving me momentarily speechless. 

"The world ends in eight days, and I have no idea how to stop it," Five confesses, the gravity of the revelation sinking in as the reality of the ticking clock looms large before us.

My eyes widen a bit, reflecting a mix of disbelief and resignation, as I contemplate the magnitude of the task at hand. 

I purse my lips, the weight of responsibility settling in, a sense of urgency driving my next move as I steel myself for the challenges that lie ahead, a resolve solidifying within me.

"I'll put on a pot of coffee" Vanya decides, breathless.

~~~

A/N : end of episode 1, hope yall like it so far :)

word count - 3798